


Too Much - Or Never Enough ?

by Bloodpix



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Anti-Gangs, Dark, Darker then Dark, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Fiction, Fluff, MAGIC-wiggles fingers-, Minor deaths?, Multi, Romance, Sci-Fi, Skeleton Sex MUCH later., Suspense, gore?, refrences, slow progression, time/dimensional travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2018-05-23 06:55:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 135,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6108646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodpix/pseuds/Bloodpix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rea (OC Read in 2nd Person ) is a mage sent to travel the void by the mages council, in charge of sealing and defeating anything that escapes.<br/>Stumbling onto a new universe, the Ebott barrier is closed and she confronts Asgore docilely about the monsters coexisting with the humans.<br/>Choosing a side, she is accompanied by a very untrusting group or monsters and a child whos magical abilities could throw her world into a mess of dangers and risks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Time to Explore

**Author's Note:**

> This is a weird and random spin story. One I imagined instantly and just typed out, because im getting mental block for my other : Bloody Lily, Blue Flames. 
> 
> If this gets a positive feedback and curiosity, I will make chapters every now and then, even possibly more often then BL,BF because with this one there are less rules and more free form.

This job was tedious beyond belief, and equally boorish .

Jumping between multidimensional time-frames to check a bunch of measly and ancient barrier seals. Cold and physically breathtaking should you linger in ‘the between’ longer then desired.

Roaming dimensions was your job, miserably, for being a direct descendant of sealers and spells. Your long time ancestral father of another age had passed down his damned blood throughout the generations, you resulting in the next ‘masterpiece’ as the remainder of the casters court named.

You had to make sure that the barriers in certain locations stayed shut and sealed. There were multiple locations, but at the center of them lied Mt. Ebott, the most boring of them all. The seal holding the mountain shut was greatly honored, but it was rusting and ancient. You were to renew it, rejuvenate in a sense, as you did with the remaining seals. Never told what they held, just given the task.

You could refuse, but if you had, you would merely be forced into reproduction until the next ‘masterpiece’ inherited your ancestors magic. So you complied , unwillingly, hoping it would cure the paining boredom known as life.

You checked the barriers, reran strengthening’s into each, went back, that was it. The world was in complete peace and safety thanks to you.

Woop-de-fucking-doo.

How did this never-ending stream of variable timed dimensions even begin?

Well with the 1,992 yr. old balding buzzard back at THC. The High Court ( god that’s SOOO LAME. )

You return to the councils court foyer, relocated out of the timely world to enhance longevity considerably. The oldest member ascertained the safety of so, using the residue of his magic to pump his sickly heart and soul. He was a war hero, sealing a monstrous kraken into a hidden sea, using an islands entirety as the seals host. You’d just returned from resealing that specific island, ceasing the guttural foaming screams and rustling earth for the unlucky islanders peace of mind. Besides the seals, you were the keeper of the humans. Not so much for life as in death. You were pretty much like a grim reaper, magic bad-ass scythe included. The Reaper was the only other name given other then ‘masterpiece’.

The elder of the magic court pulled you over to the side at that time ( though time hardly mattered there), a shrouding gleam snaking through his blind eyes. Every mage had taken over a distinct marking from their bloodlines ; the elders more unnerving considering he couldn’t hide his freakish yet enchanting eyes. As if from an alien, they consisted of no pupil, iris, just entirety of the surrounding whitened sclera. Within though, was a blackness that transcended further into an unparalleled darkness, worming about as if it truly existed and thrived behind the thin cornea. It was unsettling, but he willed it take make a pupil shape, more cartoonish suddenly as he heaved heavy and raspy breaths.

“My dear……I..I’ve been keeping an eye on…hee-your progression…” he wheezes, every pause a baited breath, thinking he will drop dead every time. He strongly takes hold of your shoulder, ignoring his magnificent cane and using you as a steadier as he walks beside you, yourself slowing pace considerably to the most respected being here.

“I would imagine so, Baysoph. Your nonexistent eyes are TRULY everywhere.” You groan, a smile hinting at the edges of your dry mouth, thirsty for something other then the sea. You immediately feel guilty, the old coot laughs, nearly doubling over as he clutches his heart. You don’t assist him ; he has too much pride, and shortly after, he rises responsibly well, replacing his grip onto your shoulder.

“Cute. Hehehhh” he grumbles, pointing the two fingered hand down a corridor you weren’t usually allowed to advance down. He was riddled in deep scars, missing more toes and fingers then limbs, which was good considering the arm he pointed with was the only limb not constructed by the Forger. The Forger was the mage equivalent of a blacksmith, constructing tools, weapons, and for the elder, working mechanicalized limbs and organs. His heart wasn’t even untouched, covered and mended with long named metals you didn’t care about.

Approaching his wealthy study of endless ‘history’ ( he thought he hid the porn magazines well enough…) you usher him to his chair, where he reclines with a grudging sigh, before snapping his fingers. The room dims in an instant, hardly leaving time to adjust before a star floats inside a sealed capsule. With a nod of clearance, you approach the star, tiny yet feisty, golden and so…safe.

“What is this, Baysoph?” you groan, not wanting to participate in more crazy schemes of his. He dabbled in the untouched ; and they were called untouched for reasons. If it contained that word, he would find it, hold it tightly, and laugh it in the face, no matter the consequences. One being that kraken.

“It is……a SAVE. I’d….heeeehh… located it outside of…. Mt. Ebott not 3…3 worldly days ago.” He wheezes out, coughing harshly into his prepped shoulder.

“Okay. What does this have to do with me? And a SAVE? Like a video-game SAVE or we talking something else?” you question, your more adult teen fighting out. You never appreciated the snappy teen years, though they showed now, everyone coming to despise your existence. The Forger, Baysoph and Mirage were all you had. Mirage was the keeper of dreams, using them to help Zebbulon in creating new species of creatures that would never witness the true light of day. He was a mad scientist in a natural fucked up way. Mirage had a soft spot for you though, often sharing glorious dreams with you to ‘cheer you up’. Never was it necessary, but it always stuck a smile to your face, young children imaginations running wild.

One time she’d accidentally left a wet dream instead, to which you both were utterly embarrassed.

“Like a game?.....heehehhh I suppose……it holds in _cred_ ible power…” he annunciates. He gleams at you, the unreal pupil shapes shrinking in surprise. “Power of time-travel……dimensions beyond MY reach.”

This was enormous, suddenly feeling small compared to the miniscule star. Baysoph was nuts for his age, but this was new ground. The mages never EVER fondled time magic. It was bad written all over it ; never would they return to natural lives. The last incompetent who had supposedly messed with time repeated the same 5 minutes over and over. Supposedly he would become conscious of his jumping, though every five minutes, it would in a sense reset. The worst part was is that he was getting chewed out for even attempting to use said magic. Eventually after repeating who knows how many times, he shot himself with his own weapon, fizzling away and the court learning hastily to what caused such a diabolical end.

His very explorations drove him insane, killing himself. His bloodline ended, and so did his magic, withering away. If that ever normally happened, they would immediately extract his magic and seal it away, but his was too unstable and would merely send the next to meet a similar fate, thus letting it dissipate into the stagnant air.

Dimensions were whole new things. There had been dimensional magicians before you, though the ended up lost for decades on end, to come back old and weary, too much information to recall and detail in the last of their life-span. It wasn’t as forbidden as messing with time, but you reaped what you sowed if you messed with multi-plains.

Of course, you had. You could. It wasn’t anything big, but sometimes the changes in dimensions were too much to handle, immediately retreating back the THC to be scorned for attempting such ‘ruthless inconsiderate acts of duty denial’. God was that a familiar mouthful you constantly wished to shove right back.

“Alrighty. And why pray-tell are you having me look at this? Usually Zebbulon takes more interest in these then I, you realize?” you scoff, turning to the old man. His pupils have wriggled away, forming a crescent shape as his sickly wrinkled grin of madness bursts onto his face.

“I need you….to take this and travel about. The…Heehhh dimensions, dearie.” He giddily trills. He basically resembled a Tim Burton ancient MadHatter. It wasn’t something you weren’t used to, but it proved he was simply insane.

It was cool, thinking of how he has just let insanity devour him to the point of allowing such power into your young and irresponsible grasp. Yet, there is always a catch.

“So, what do I have to do? You don’t send me on these insane shit missions for nothing old man.” You scoff, poking and prodding at the thin sheet of glass containing this supposed ‘unbelievable power’.

“You? You’re…….HAHEeehh-“ he was really choking on a breath there, nearly had you concerned the old bastard was finally dropping before he even explained shit. He coughed and swallowed intensely strong alcohol, swishing loudly about his gummed mouth before swallowing with a heatful satisfaction.

“You’re to go and do…..your job between dimensions……..report back every 100…” he grumbles giddily, taking another swig.

You nearly grab the frail jar and chuck it at his wrinkled skull. A heated rage builds over, your stomping as you rush the old man shakes books from the shelves.

“WHY THE **HELL** AM I DOING THAT?!? THIS IS BULLSHIT YOU OLD FUCK! ITS BAD ENOUGH I HAVE TO FUCKING DO THAT HERE, NOW YOU WANT ME TO JUST GO ABOUT BETWEEN FUCKING DIMENSIONS MESSING AROUND WITH THE TIME-MAGIC AND POSSIBLY SENDING MYSELF INTO **AN ETERNAL HELL?!** ” you boom, voice carrying out like a gods fury, echo’s of said rage bouncing between the spiraling shelves as you grasp his collar, shaking profusely the old bastard.

You hated this job. You hated this life. Now they just found a way to make sure you kept busy with it. Bastards didn’t want you in the first place, nothing but seals and jumping. Alls you had left was your fierce stare and soul : although apparently not as intimidating to the utterly stupid. Your right eye shimmered a blood red that deepened the black pupil; the opposing as yellow as a wolves, faint red strung between towards the center, resembling a cart wheel. Whenever your magic built up enough, apparently the resembling wheel spinned to accelerate the speed of projectiles and movement. In short, it made you an assassin; speedy and powerful.

“I will give you the eternal wi-fi headset with the latest mage phone Frost has made.” He retorts, immediately being dropped back into his cushiony seat.

“Which one is that?”

“heehh……the one where any item can be pulled from the…..internal storage, also the internet has been tested in ‘the between’….it works. Its also a eternal battery ; charged by sound waves…”

Fucking shit that’s good shit. Good shit right there.

“Deal.”

“HeeheehEHEHHHEH” the old bastard laughs, breathing heavily as it grows. It doesn’t matter to you. The wi-fi headset is amazing enough, but having a phone, which games, music, items, and it charges by talking to it. That’s gods phone right there.

And thusly, here you are, floating through ‘the between’ jamming out to Passion of a Manwhore after about 138 dimensions. The last was a pretty fucked up one, the world hardly needed your assistance. It didn’t exist – the kraken in this time hadn’t been sealed, it devoured nearly all the land, the water level an obscene amount. You rode leaned against your scythe, taking in the blue abyss, checking about for any of the remaining seals. You gave up when the supposed kraken tried to nip your ass out of the air.

After the first 100 dimensions, returning to the council was as you feared, troublesome to say the least. Holding onto the star as a phone pendant didn’t quell their anger. You hadn’t used it, needed to use it, or wanted to use it ; it roamed with you. Went from the Reaper to the Roamer apparently, dawning a shabby green hood with cape to conceal your mysterious existence. You were meant for a single dimension, prolonged existence as you were in others didn’t mean well for the safety of the enduring and hidden court.

As a ‘reward’ for your consistency in roaming ‘the between’ , you were knowledged with past memories ; anything that helped to reveal what laid behind the barriers. Only two came into view, the other blood ancestors were never old enough or were too old at other critical sealings.

One was for the Hana-Shi Tree, appropriately named as the enormous tree buds resembled flowers, though if consumed, deadly enough to drop an elephant in a mere minute. Within the roots and support of the tree resided a puffball like demon known as a Kipfrit. It was incredulously adorable in appearance, but that was its disguise. Similar to a succubis, it ate off of living energy, sucking the life from anything, growing in power the more it consumed. Knowing what laid beyond the seal, and feeling the power of the growing creature is enough to reconsider how strong to approach the deadly tree.

Another memory thrills you to no extent. It is a war. A valiant and never-ending war seemingly. Everything is frail, the memory sketchy. Your ancestor faced an enormous creature, the pounding rain beating against his ears as your own. The creature before his was fluffy white, drenched in the rain and blood of its foes, wielding a spear of enamoring proportions. What Forger would kill to even see this spear. The creature resembled Beast from the Beauty and the Beast mixed with a goat, but a fucking menacing raging gigantic goat. He beared a crown in his gold hair ( mane? You cant tell due to the fur and blood )between his daunting horns that easily could pierce your face whole. He maneuvered well for his giant stature, and your ancestor stared deep into his eyes, imprinting his gaze on his foe likely. It seemed his neutral color was a hazelnut brown, though as a full-throttle fight progressed, they blinked multiple more colors, your ancestor learning quickly as he evades and freezes against the also changing spear.

A man completely engulfed in fire ran about, shielding with strong flames as an umbrella to the downpour, covering the field with a skin-melting inferno. The heat stung your eyes, but you continued to witness the equal struggle.

“ KING ASGORE DREEMURR, I BEG OF YOU, LEAVE THIS FIELD WITH YOUR PEOPLE BEFORE MORE DUST AND BLOOD IS SHED!!” the old you shouts, to no avail, the king grunting and crying forth as he ranges his spear well. Atleast now you knew this incredible creatures name.

A glorious fight, but one that seemed unnecessary. Why was this happening? These creatures were more or less fighting for their lives, but never killing their foes. The mages of old……they didn’t hesitate, only yours and Mirages. Her great ancestors mark of free-flowing hair, defying gravity as it flowed upwards like a blue waterfall drenched in blood and……ash? Dust? Thin gray particles rippled within, and you noticed whenever a creature was slain, they turned into nothing but a pool of dust.

It turned painful to watch. Your ancestor inquired nobody was to interfere with his fight, the goat king trying to push back and retreat all the same to his people who hardly resembled him. Goat royalty? Finally, the mages pushed the creatures into Mt. Ebott, sealing it shut forever with an intense ritual. Your ancestor took no part, but took pity. The mages were banishing these creatures who couldn’t even fight back properly down into this dark abyss, never to see the light of day. You couldn’t understand. You only stood beside your blood brother, watching in horror as the terrified and frustrated faces disappeared behind the now rusty barricade.

Returning back to reality, you wanted to know. The questions prodded in your mind made the music distasteful, opting for the chilling silence of ‘the between’. It may as well be known as your lair for how well you can manipulate and navigate through it. Its nothing but pure white, a matrix of sorts, but nothing but you within.

Breathing becomes more strained the longer you roam the lair, choosing wisely of your next location, opting out of a watery grave resembling the last. A color, a blue string catches your gaze, hurrying your pace as you approach. Reaching for the string, it fizzles away and out of existence supposedly, a flickering image beside you. A dimension. You gaze about, not expecting to see anything, which confirms back as nothing lies about. The air grows thin, and with the blue sign leading you, you enter into the new world.

You start off on a slippery slope known as Mt. Ebott. At the top. Sliding down would be considered fun if the two or three rocks pecking into your spine as you tumble down painfully were something the kids found fun in the human times. You land face first in a bed of familiar yellow buttercups, the sun past rising before you, settling higher in the sky, but not to the noon point. Besides the upper winds of the mountain, you recognize the ledge you tumble before, silenced thoughts hitting you along with your scythe that had caught up to speed.

Holding off on your magic is the best way to conceal yourself, only using it in emergencies or sealings, or if INCREDIBLY bored and tired and using your weapon to float about. That was it. Totally casual girl with bizarre eyes. Totally casual day. You retrieve your tool, quickly warping it into the phone storage as you stand and crack at the back aches, marveling at the sun unusually long. You turn to approach the barrier, popping noises coming from your neck as you adjust to ‘work your magic’.

“Round 139 comme-“ you freeze.

The barrier.

….

……..

…its gone.

“We-he-he-HELL SHIT.” You groan, rubbing down your face. In this reality, the barrier ceased. For how long? Was it sealed to begin with? Nearly every other dimension had the same sealings, the Kraken was new entirely! But this?!

You groan and smack gently at your face, ceasing your panic. This can be okay. This could be okay. There was a village beyond the trees, no smoke from fire-man wrecking any joints……is he even still alive? Fuck how long was that fight ?!

KRUNCH-CH-CH-CH-

An obsessing crunching starts beside you, throwing you from the base of where the barrier stood to the wall, facing the loud foe.

“Who the fuck are you?” it asks, voice grunting and unpleasant.

Before you stands an odd creature, a few feet high, a large hump where its face would lie, but its eyes lay on the horizontal sides of its…face? Two nasals puff out roughly, the rock like bumps atop the lumps jittering like disgusting pimples that grew too much. Its eyes are void of any emotion, though its mouth is greedily stuffing Doritos in to packed cheeks, chewing wildly open-mouthed. Its utterly disgusting and disgraceful and how dare he not SHARE those Doritos.

You approach the being calmly, asking the normal questions.

“Who are you?” you ground yourself, sounding menacing, but it has no effect as  it merely replies with a grunt and scoff.

“I asked you first. Everyone who is anyone knows me, Jerry the Super Cool and Awesome, dude!” he flexes noodle arms, spilling a few Doritos into the dirt. The very thought of tasty chips being smothered to the dirt nearly ends him up dead. He yanks a phone from behind him, tapping with cheese covered fingers and groaning “The wifi up here sucks…”.

This creature came off clearly as a condescending piece of shit that no one liked. He kept hitting the vibrate button to make it appear he was receiving constant texts from his amassing friends and fans.

You don’t know whether to kill him or pity him. Mostly kill, minor the pity.

“How long has this barrier been open?” you ask, pinching the nerves at the bridge of your nose as he pulls another bag of chips from behind. You swear you hear Velcro ripping.

“Huuhhh don’t you know anything, twerp?” he grunts, shoving more chips in his mouth. “ Fwine I’ll teaCH (the CH pelts you with bits of chips ) wour sad assh sunce woo –gulp- if you can ask nicely.”

_Fuck this._

You appear before the creature, grabbing the disgusting lump and shoving it against the rocky mountain, him instantly quivering under you, legs dangling as his noodle arms frantically reach to pry free. Its hardly even considered a struggle, his whimpers grow into chokes. You remove the camouflaging goggles that brace the wind, revealing your unamused eyes, and he struggles more then before, grunting and cussing silently.

Using your free hand, you fish out your phone, rummaging through the storage until coming upon a glorious can of cheddar Pringles. You happily open the can, the succulent cheddar wafting into your nose as you shove threw into your mouth. Jerrys struggles cease at last, and kindly swallowing you grip harder and face the crude creature.

“Im going to ask you questions. Im only going to ask them once. For every answer, I will consider to spare you. For every denial of an answer, I will squeeze harder til I dust you and throw it into the wind. Are we understood?” you growl, Jerry quickly nodding his body as you take another pleasant minute to enjoy a few Pringles.

“How long has the barrier to Mt. Ebott been down?” you ask, containing your growl.

“I-It went down bout a year ago!”

“How, Jerry?” you nudge your thumb to squeeze ever so slightly, and the creature pales.

“T-There was a human! A kid! F-Frisk, my bud!-“

 _Hard to believe that_ you scoff, letting the terrified being continue.

“We-We had human souls in storage t-to break the b-barrier but, little dude made it t-to Asgore and he f-freed us all!”

You flinch back, nearly dropping him free before slamming him against the rock.

“Asgore? Asgore Dreemurr?!” you yell unintentionally. If he supposedly could pee, his expression read it. He nodded, holding in tears.

“How fucking old can they get?” you grumble, shoving a Pringle who doesn’t deserve the angry chewing it receives. Sorry Pringle, your delicious life was lived well.

“Y-Your one of t-t-those e-evil humans, aren’t ya?!” he yells, mustering the little courage he has as he swats the disarm you from your Pringles.

“Hey hey HEY.” You slam him again, a tiny whine for forgiveness emanating from him “I ask questions, you provide answers.” You smugly say, putting on the goggles to conceal your eyes.

“Last question buddy, then I will let you play with your wifi or whatever.”

He nods, begging eyes for freedom.

“Where. Is. Asgore.” You grit your teeth. He was the only one apparently still alive and having answers about what happened, course it would likely be from his point of view. You needed to contact THC immediately, inform them of the issues.

The squirming lump known as Jerry hesitates, not wishing to give away such information to such a murderous stare. Eventually he gives in.

“At the side park, picnicking. With monsters. I-Including the R-Royal Guards C-Captain, The Royal S-Scientist, Ambassador, Judge, Ex-Queen, and the Queens G-Guard! S-So you don’t stand a fucking chance, you jerk! You’re gonna get your ASS beat, hahahaha!” he laughs, unknowingly ratting to just how many monsters would be there, and their names read enough. If Asgore couldn’t beat your old blood, then it was unlikely his underlings could follow suit ; but that was 3 vs 1 just going off titles, depending on how ruthless the others were and if there were more unspecified monsters laying in wait.

You throw the creature back behind where the barrier laid, chanting the sealing ritual. A much thinner barrier springs to life, not fueled by the full council and you weren’t perfect under complete aggravation. However, the little creature is pale and speechless as he watches your eye spin with colors.

“Now Jerry. This is temporary. If you were lying about their location well….. **it wont be so temporary then, now will it?** ” you growl, the little monster instantly peeing.

So it does pee. Gross. That could have been all over your nice combat boots.

“If you weren’t, be back for ya in an hour or so! Bye bye!” you yell, running off the ledge, summoning the scythe openly and flying off. Forge allowed magic fueled thrusts into two of the ends, making you appear like a witch. It felt amazing, but it was not very secretive at all. The wind and sun on your face felt good, as you fly in the clouds, glaring down on the world with your eyes.

Taking this opportunity, you rang up Baysoph.

Ring…..Ring……R- “Heehh yyesss?” he rasps. He must have been sleeping, he is slurring too. You feel nothing. Theres another thing that makes him slur, and he doesn’t hide it well, huffing heated and rough. You sigh, instantly feeling sicker just listening to the phone.

“Baysoph, I found another world. This time the barrier at Ebott was gone, monsters have been living amongst the human for around a year. I am locating the king for interrogation.”

He stops huffing and gasps, before cackling wildly, coughing intervals intruding his maniac giggles.

“They ESCAPED?! That’s RICH!” a familiar star-like voice chimes in, coughing protruding through the background. Zebbulon. Arrogant prima-donna held the phone, fwooshing his black and yellow locks about as if he were a star.

“Shut the shit up Zebb and give Baysoph back the phone.” You groan, continuing the search instead of listening to his dribble.

“You convenient little WORM, if Baysoph wasn’t in charge of your little EXPEDITION, I would EXECUTE you myself. Your job is simple, KILL THE FUC-“ he yells, but is cut off as the line is cut.

Scouring overhead, you check nearly every park, and finally you see one that is practically void of all human life, a crowd surrounding the buildings as they stare on.

Probably that park. You halt above, redialing.

Rin- Instantaneous.

“Whats the…….. condition of that world?” replies Baysoph, no background noise of Zebbulon being a prick, thankfully. He must have evicted him from the library.

“I haven’t much information yet sir, I only just arrived. From what I viewed and heard, the creatures of Ebott emerged roughly a year ago, entering the human cities. I encountered one who claimed me evil ; I have temporarily sealed him away until you give any other deciding command. He led me to the location of Asgore Dreemurr, and I think I have located them ; the humans are avoiding this park. I don’t think humans took well to it sir.” You finish waiting as the contemplating hum rings through.

“Well……say hello…..tell him…heehhhheheh tell him……that “Syurin sends regards.” and……make sure to flash him……a pretty face............after that, judge for yourself…….now excuse me, its lunch.” He finishes, hanging up rudely before you can say another word. You groan and find a relatively tall building near the park before being stupid.

You deny magic to the thrusters, leaving you to quickly plummet towards the city cement and building brick. 10 feet from impact, you floor it, coming 2 feet from impact as the blade of the scythe pierces into the building like butter. You dig it free from the buildings grasp, trotting over to the edge and adjusting the goggles to increase a zoom.

A smoke from a barbecue covers the better portion of the field, but large figures roam everywhere. A woman in a purple robe of sorts is hugging a child close, their brown fuzzy hair covering their face and the woman holding them. There are two tall red trails running rampantly at increasing paces in a race around a small circle, the child freeing from the womans hands to even attempt joining. The womans face hides behind smoke, alongside two figure who appear much smaller in comparison, as she sits at a table not visible from your vantage point. Following the smoke, you find your man.

Tall and broad, relinquishing his cape and crown for a tight teal flannel shirt, giant blue jeans hemmed at the bottom. Yellow beard and hair breezed gently in the wind.

Asgore.

Time to go pay your regards.


	2. Time for Jerry?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jerry. Fuck Jerry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Attention. I will be writing this when I get more mental blocks on my other story. In short, in between chapters I suppose while I think up the rest.  
> I dont mean to treat this story as second best, but its probably not for everyone.  
> Alot of it is fictional

Casually sliding down the side of the building, using window ledges as foot holds, you reach the bottom, obvious freaked stares protruding from every direction. Your actions spoke as equally as your clothes : a ragged green hood and cape, a black armor guard that exposed more skin than necessary, but the cape covered it well. Your skirt went high towards your stomach, covering what more flesh would be revealed and instead allowing long legs to adorn stripped ripped stockings.

You think it’s the stockings, but opt to completely change. Running into a nearby bathroom, you log your phone, hunting through the never-ending dresser for suitable clothing. Finding an adorable shoulder dipping mid-sleeve as red as your eye, brown booty shorts, and a less ripped set of stockings, stripes and all. Refitting into the temporarily removed combat boots, you even apply a old leather newsboy cap with a broken heart pin stabbed into it. The last effect is changing your hair to a more human brunette, magic coursing through it had changed it over the years. Ready to strut the day away and possibly imprison monsters in a guttural damp cave again! Woop!

Coming to the side-walk, you figure you have no clue how to approach him.

Well shit.

You decide to meander over to an outdoors barista shop, hiding incase of spies. Peeking inside, there are monsters working the front—line. A cat and crocodile with teen fashion hair and lipstick. Every time the door jingles open, they speak in near perfect unison, but always with a one second lag from one or the other. So, monsters had melded in with society, but some of society wasn’t okay with it. These were mental and physical notes to be taken, considering this could eventually happen to your own realm, thusly you needed to understand what could occur.

Turning away from the distraction, you’d never removed the cape and goggles ; too treasured to care about the stares, and you needed to hide your identity as best as possible. That’s why they were given, and no body would know of your true existence with the goggles on.

No humans proceeded into the park. Some didn’t mind, hanging more towards the outskirts to give the riley group their space, while others nearby to you cursed their very existence. Approaching in hostility could provoke other humans to rebel against the so far ‘gentle giant’, and his company wouldn’t be none too pleased likely. However, approaching peacefully could rake you into a mess ; there was a form of terrorism for nearly anything, and no doubt were there likely groups willing to kill to rid the world of these monsters.

You choose to rather take your chances with a peaceful approach, slowly standing and walking across the street. Once reaching the other side, a group of men are huddled together, all nearly in black, whispering as if you cant hear them.

“When can we just hit’im?”

“Wait you idiot!”

“This aint the time for mistakes…”

“Look, he is alone, lets just END it!” one growls, shaking profusely.

You look to the parks hill, the proud large monster gracefully is cooking burgers on a barbecue besides a tree, a hint of the table visible past the trunk. He is alone, vulnerable if they rush him quick enough.

The one boy cant seem to contain the ferocity, he barrels forward, pistol at the ready, the other two shouting curses and attempting to reach the quick boy. The gun has a silencer on it, completely planned for this occasion that would be the fall of the king.

Had you not shown up.

You grace a leg beneath him instantly, tripping him and his itchy trigger finger, the bullet ricocheting the tree into the soil. Asgore straightens immediately and turns to the dangers direction. You pin the boy to the ground, ceasing his arm movement and grabbing the gun. You fire the remaining rounds into the soil near the boys head, and he frantically starts muttering apologies. You glance up to analyze the damage to witness the king bounding down the hill, utter shock placid on his face. You throw your free hand up.

“Stop right there furball!” you yell, and he follows as instructed. Clenching the boys fists you lean close to his ear.

“Should you ever try shit like that again, little man…… **I will cease your existence**.” You threaten, voice reaching a tone not meant for human kind as he cries into the soil. You retrieve the gun, shoving it into the minor pockets of your shorts, before grabbing the boy and thrusting his limp wobbly body back to his cohorts.

“Get outta here. Now.” You glare, and they hardly hesitate, rushing down the street nearly ramming into oncoming traffic. Luckily, due to the silencer, the commotion didn’t cause more then a little questioning, merely a small girl beating a thug as he approached an intimidating monster who still loomed halfway down the hill.

Finally redirecting your attention, you meet the hazel gaze you feel pained to rewitness. You had to watch this man get shut away for 2,000+ years ( deductive skills = Baysoph wasn’t there for it ). You begin the unlucky trudge to the monster, giving a worried smile.

“A-Are you alright human?” he asks, deep so baritone and afraid, but caressing a kindness along it. You throw a grand smile back at him, nearing to 5 feet as you stop.

“Ya. Ya im good. You better keep an eye out there, furball; he meant to shoot you, not the tree.”

He stares at you with sorrow, not fear.

“I wish I had known. If that had hit any of my friends or family….I..” he grumbles, clenching fists tightly. Stick a spear in that fist and you got a menacing looking fucker right there.

“Hey, hey! You cant know everything! Now then!” you say, clapping your hands together and taking another hearty step forward. “ You are King Asgore Dreemurr, yes ?” you ask, the man growing a tense but sweet smile, eyes relaxing slightly.

“Yes human. I truly owe you my life I suppose. Would you like to eat lunch with us?” he gestures, pointing back to the barbecue puffing delicious smoke. You were the judge; how you reacted would change the outcome of things, and approaching this as a pacifist was your best bet, but to avoid the entirety of his crew would be for the best.

“Sure, but uh, I need to talk to you : alone if that’s good. I mean we don’t have to leave, but uh, I need to speak to you in more privacy then you have with them.” You utter, trying to get your point across. He looks at, you baffled.

“Have we met before?..” he questions slowly striding back to the picnic tables-“You seem…so familiar, yet I cant recall your name or face.”

“Yes. In technicality, we have met. But again, that’s more of a private matter.” You reassure, having to speed up to keep his slow but wide steps equal to the progress of your own. Reaching the top of the hill, you get a gander at the rest of the group, and fuck the gods if it isn’t an unusual one.

Theres. Fucking. Skeletons.

Never are you imprisoning these guys again without direct orders, in which your asking to KEEP the skeletons. A short one wears a blue hoodie, a fluff surrounding the edges of the hood, but the lower half of him consists of black gym shorts and fluffy night slippers. He also has a reverse Baysoph eye thing going ; sockets being black, pupils (?) being white flecks of light that seem to freely dart about, and a grin stuck to his face, not explaining the general appearance and function of a true skulll. The worst part is you can tell even from his sitting, that he is taller then the incredibly fun-sized you. Another easily stands a foot taller, if not a foot and a half from your height ; a red scarf as long as your hooded-cape. His skull is more like a normal skull, though he doesn’t have light specks in his eyes. He wears a t-shirt with a racecar on it, and a pair of cargo pants with proper running sneakers. He is incredibly loud, drowning out all other voices, besides one.

Beside him, yelling on an equal plane is a fish woman? She isn’t a mermaid, but a woman with fish skin, fins for ears, and she is missing a eye. Royal Guard Captain. Calling it. CALLING IT. Her long red ponytail flowing besides the taller skeletons scarf explains the red blips you couldn’t make out before. Her teeth as sharp as a sharks, her black tank top reveals muscles and her tight yoga pants have splits at the knees as she enthusiastically does squats to the apparent joy of the taller skeleton. To anothers joy, a yellow dinosaur like lizard, the same height as you likely, watches with a loving expression. She bears a set of nerdy glasses, a sweet summer dress adorned with polka dots, and a white jacket incase of the non-existent cold.

Approaching the table is what must be the ex-queen, seeing as she is too a towering goat monster, her purple robe bearing an insignia you’d seen in a book in Baysophs library. Her horns and size didn’t compare to Asgores, and her amethyst eyes shone brightly gleaming against the sun. In her hands was a human child, brown hair frizzing as she tries to calm its tenacity. The child wears a striped t-shirt and a pair of jean shorts, a band-aid upon their knee likely from a childish scratch.

Asgore rumbles with laughter and a sigh, looking over the group with a fond gaze. Its so pleased and at peace with the world, you hate to have to crush it possibly.

“I must say, I haven’t seen a human wear a caped hood like yours in……so long…” he sighs, obviously recalling the tragic past your ancestors had brought forth. In his hands is plate with prepared burgers for the both of you, but you tug gently at his shirt, careful to not grab furs, and point to a further off table : one where you can still see the group and be enough out of reach to not be over-heard. “ Ahh yes. Let me inform my wi-…..um…just-ya.” He stutters, handing you the plates and walking to the crowded and rambunctious table.

Family problems. Who doesn’t have ‘em? You wont pry on unnecessary business. The goat woman takes notice of you, a strange concern in her eyes as Asgore returns to your side. A loud yell erupts from the silencing chatter.

“Yo, Asgore, where ya goin’?!” yells the one eyed fish. Asgore turns and smiles a wave and points to you. She eyes you out ( hahahaha good one. ) and you grow a smug smile to her concentrating gaze.

“Don’t worry, I will bring him back when im done with our chat fish-cake!” you laugh, walking down the hill.

“FISH-CAKE?!” she roars, attempting to jump the table entirely to clock you in the face, but Asgore cuts her off.

“No Undyne! Its fine!” he replies before following you to the separate table. Everyone watches as you sit yourselves down, enjoying a few bites of the burger before cutting to the chase.

“Alright, Asgore, I wont beat around the bush with you here. Im not here on pleasantries. Not from what I know and do.” You grumble setting down the burger. The king stops the readying bite, placing his down as well.

“Who are you, little one?” He asks, truly questioning.

“Well…” you start, removing your goggles, concealing your eyes from his view as you finish the sentence. “ Im known as many things. Right now im a messenger girl. MY message is – “Syurin sends regards.” You perk up, giving him a true eyeful. He has paled considerably, gasping for air, looking like he is choking on burger, convulsing with utter fear.  “You recognize my eyes, do you not, Asgore?” you question, the man still shaking and unsure of the actions he should take.

“I would stop shaking if you could. Your friends at the top of the hill might notice and freak.” At your words, he does the exact opposite, falling to his elbows against the table, weeping softly into them, gritting a towel behind feral teeth.

“ **DONT YOU DARE HURT THEM.** ” He snarls, eyes glaring back wild with rage.

“Hey hey hey buddy, I came in peace! I coulda let that punk shoot you, I coulda KILLED you myself, but here we are, having a pleasant little chat, RIGHT?!” you reply trying to hold in your own anger. Of course, threatening the man was likely getting you nowhere. “ Now listen to me!” you groan, sitting back and biting into the burger. You glance back to ensure they are all there, but the goat woman approaches calmly. Her stare is intense, directed at both of you, as you hide your eyes again.

“Can you please tell your ex-wife to go away? I don’t want to cause trouble here Asgore, just a little chat.” You whisper, the man seething behind tears as he looks to the woman with a familiar fear. The same as when he’d first been trapped behind the barrier. He stands and approaches the woman, shaking and hugging her tight, to which she hugs him back.

“Asgore, what is the matter? Whats going on?” she almost orders it, her queen-like status coming in as her voice demands attention and authority from the gasping tearing giant.

“Tori……please go back and just keep everyone away from this table, do you hear me?” he whispers, stroking the back of her head lovingly. You watch from the brim of your hat, sorrow for scaring the poor man who’d gone through enough to this breaking point.

“Whats happened?! Please tell me Asgore…what has the huma-“ she asks, but Asgore cuts her off with a smooch to the lips. Its long and sad as he coaxes his soft furred claws down her startled face. You audibly her to breaking of the kiss, Asgore reaching to her side lovingly to whisper sweet nothings.

“I love you…I love you beyond reason and life…so please…keep yourself and everyone else away from this table…please Tori…” he whimpers, carefully pushing away the one thing that held him together all those years ago, even though she’d left him.

You knew the tale. You’d read books that supposedly came from a rubble pile in Ebott, explaining old times of the king and queen. Humans and monsters lived as one until sealed beneath Ebott. The royal family consisted of a biological and a non-biological human child. The human fell ill, and when their own child tried to return them to their initial village, he was killed for supposedly killing the child. He had hobbled back, with the other child, and died in their arms. Afterwords, the king in his guilt, rage, and determination, took human souls to try and break the barrier. The queen, saddened and upset with his actions, left him, breaking the already broken. It sounded more of a sad fantasy, but they existed, and here they were. A grown monster weeping softly as he forces his love to unnecessary safety.

She backs away the whole ways, never taking her eyes off him. She cant even settle into a seat, just sitting near the group as now all eyes are transfixed on you. So much for keeping this on the down low. The kind wobbles back into his seat, collapsing against the table as he holds his head low.

“You are one of the human mages…yes?” he mutters, wiping away thick tears coating a dew through his facial fur and beard.

“Yes. I am an ancestor of Ovine, the man who you equaled against during the war before the barrier. I witnessed the memories for myself, I know your fighting style.” You inform, to which he sighs in defeat.

“That’s it then…isn’t it. You want to seal away my people after having such a hopeful taste of freedom…humans are…are so cruel. It never changes, truly. I should NEVER have tried to return, but my people……they missed the sun and I-“ he chokes, sobs coming back. It sends you over.

“Hey hey stop your crying already, I am not evil fork fucks sake!” you slam against the table, startling and confusing the tear-drained king.

“Look! My job currently is to roam around universes, sealing and enforcing barriers where need be. I discovered that the monsters here were free, but I knew from the memories, you weren’t pure evil.” You state, trying to calm down while you explain. “I don’t think you remember, or you choose to forget, but Ovine took no part in the sealing of your people! Neither will I if I can try and help!” you smile, and the monster gaze is empty of emotion; likely run dry from all the water-works.

“So…why…why are you here? Why did you say that?!” he demands, voice echoing likely loud enough for the group to hear.

“I said that because it is what I was told to say by my over-watcher. I am not the only human mage out there, but your lucky you only ended up with me buddy! The rest aren’t so forgiving.” Your reassurance nearly send him into a depression, as he darkens to the possible inevitable doom.

“Aahh but but! I haven’t gotten any say as to WHAT to do with you guys yet. It might not be good, but it seems that the humans are giving you more trouble then you give them” you state, pulling out the gun and careful to not face it towards anyone he cares for. “This is a silencer. It muffles the sound that the gun makes so nobody realizes it goes off. If I hadn’t done anything earlier, you would have been shot, no one knowing why you were suddenly dust in the wind.” He shivers, considering his narrow escape from death.

“So, heres my plan til I am given instruction ; ya ready, you’re going to LOVE it!” you beam, him waiting on drained breath and energy.

“Im going to protect your people from the humans!” you cry out, joy covering your face. He stares in complete disbelief before bursting out into sincere laughter that catches the concerned group of friends off-guard.

“This is absurd!” he laughs, still catching his breath. You smile back, leaning forward.

“Yep. Utterly absurd. Crazy even! But without the crazy individuals, the world would never change!” you boast, accepting the insanity passed down from Baysoph. A grave thought waves over you though as the king settles from his laughing fit.

“However, your majesty, should the mage council decide without a doubt that the monsters must be sealed back in Ebott, I will assure you this now-“ you threaten, staring down with bleak eyes “I can tell from just looking at them I can take them all at once.”

The king shudders, but doesn’t deny the claim.

“Human powers are terrifying at times…” he says, rubbing his neck with worry.

“Im not meaning to threaten you sir. I know kind people who are part of the mage society, and I know it will take strict convincing to get them against you, so you have my back, my scythe, and my power!” you get up and kneel to the king, hood accidentally lobbing over your head, but you need to prove your loyalty if he is to trust you.

“I am a mage of old, no name, meant to seal and destroy any threats. My powers are for you to use to aid against any enemies or foes who would cause you harm or discomfort. If you care to not trust me as you shouldn’t, please lob off my head and cease my bloodline.” You give in, the man astounded at the strength and courage to insist that you let your magic line be cut off if he should choose.

Instead he kneels beside you, a gasp coming from the hill that you don’t look at as the king lifts your hood and grievingly meets your face.

“Why do you not have a name?” he asks, and you snort to the absurd question.

“I cant leave a trace of my existence, so I go by nicknames : Reaper and Roamer the favoring.” You alas, the King standing you both up and thinking hard. You had also heard he was terrible with naming things, so this wouldn’t go well. You stop his thoughts with an instant reply to your own.

“Rea. Rea Scythe can be my name should you wish.” You suggest, a sudden look of confusion wandering his face “What?”

“Scythe? Why Scythe?”

“Well Rea came from Reaper and Reaper came from Grim Reaper and the Grim Reaper is known to carry a scythe, and they gave me a scythe as my weapon and I can use it to fly as well as kill things.” You ramble quickly before ending with an innocent smile.

“A-A…A scythe? A-Arent you a little young to be wielding such a…weapon?” he gestures his hand to how tall you are.

“EXCUSE ME! I am fucking 198 years old! I am just…Fun-sized!” you regesture, trying to look menacing but apparently it comes off as adorabley upset as he pats your head.

“So you ARE still a child, but not a normal human child. How can you live for so long?” he wonders.

“Well sir, the mage HQ, THC, is located in a space that time doesn’t pass much in. In human time I am 22, but I have lived for 198 years.” You explain, the king looking worried.

“Space time? Ah like the void? Umm….the ‘in between’?” he asks, surprising you with his knowledge of that place.

“Its not located their sir, but I call ‘the between’ my lair at this point. I hang out in there so much. How do you know about it?” you question, hoping for an answer.

“Ah. Sans is capable of going into the void using rifts, though he calls them ‘shortcuts’ and the further it takes him, the more magic it uses. I didn’t know humans knew of the science behind it.”

“Ah, which ones Sans?” you ask, up for a transporting competition.

“Ah, the shorter elder skeleton brother he- Ah…they are watching…how long have they be-“

“The entire time Asgore. The entire time.” you state, the king suddenly looking pathetic again.

“Understandable. This was quite a run on. Are you sure you will protect us, even against your own?” he questions, hope filling his eyes. “ I do not wish to burden you with our problems, but a human mage wont receive penalty for their magic and is stronger then monsters.”

“They penalize you for using magic? Oh HELL no!” You roll the minor sleeves. “ Point me at em I will choke ‘em in my lair! Muahahaha!” you cackle villainously, hoping to appease the staring crowd, a kids chuckle faintly heard. Bingo.

“Then I will allow you in human. I will trust you. But I cannot guarantee that the others will trust a mage…” he replies, nervous for his friends “ They have heard stories, and I wont even fully trust you, but I knew that man fighting me didn’t truly want to fight, and neither will I believe that with you.” He reassures, a smile spread thin. It wasn’t even the mid afternoon and this man looked ready for days worth of sleep after the adrenaline and sadness he just experienced.

“Sir, alls I need is a place to watch over, and I will be there. I can use magic on my eyes if you want, to make them not as weird looking. Already did that to change my hair…” On cue, you turn both your eyes the same blood red, to the dismay of the king.

“Uh-um-ah m-maybe the y-yellow?” he asks kindly, as he deeply stares into the familiar gaze. You don’t question it, both becoming the embarrassing neon yellow that soothes the stressed heart of the king. “ T-Thank you hu-….Thank you, Rea.”

Having a name is weird and embarrassing, but it will grow. The king finally adjusts himself and readies to face the music of questions. You get beside him, removing the hooded cape to tie around your waist to resemble a lazy shirt, freeing your hair from the itching cap and ruffling it about from the intense sweat that had built up.

“So-“ you whisper as you approach the standing group- “Who can I and cant tell about the whole mage thing?”

“Um…well we will figure that out later. Just…noone right now, please.” He finishes, the queen running to him before he makes the table and catching him in a loving hug. You awe the action, earning a stern gaze from the woman who begins a rant of rants.

“Who is this human Asgore?! Why were you so…What happened?! Asgore EXPLAIN!” she yells, fear and anger mixed about her face.

“Uhh…ah well….”Asgore mutters, trying to figure out how to proceed and how to lie. You do one better.

“Well I came up from behind and saved this fuzzball. Someone tried to assassinate him.” You clear up, pulling the gun into view and the woman gasping in sheer horror as Asgore grumbles. More of the group gather closer to understand.

“See this?” you remove the silencer from the gun, showing it to the woman. “ This is a silencer. It muffles the gunshot noise so its hardly hearable. There was a group of guys, base of the hill bout 10 minutes back. One guy whipped this out and aimed at the fuzzball while he was at the barbecue. 1 shot ricocheted and hit the tree, the mark is still there if you want to verify my claims.” You point to the tree, the woman shivering as she looks at her husband.

“Why…How..?” she seems at a loss for words, so you continue with a somewhat lying spree.

“No need to be alarmed. You are Miss Dreemurr, yes?” you insist, shaking to shocked womans hand before continuing. “Pleasure to meet you, truly. I am Rea. Rea Scythe, part of an undercover team to ensure the safety of monsters, but I don’t work with the police. I have given the furball a offer : I will protect any monsters whenever they need it, be it escorts or general lookouts, I can do it!” you enthuse, gripping a fist into the air. She is lost for words.

“S-S-So you’re like a-a s-secret a-a-agent?” comes a frail voice. You follow it and meet the innocent eyes of the yellow dinosaur from before.

“Yes, in a way I guess. More of a bodyguard.” You reply, giving a joyous smile.

“Well-But-Your just a child.” The woman replies, earning a shocked jaw drop from you.

“Why does everyone gotta think im a kid? That’s a kid!” You say pointing to the child that has nudged to the front of the line, excitedly hopping up and down as they look at you. “What?”

The begin signing frantically. Oh no. ASL. Your only weakness behind baby animals next to babies/kids. This was an ASL kid though! THE TORTUROUS HUMANITY!!

As soon as they finish , you blink a few times trying to recall the lessons you painstakingly avoided.

“Uh…” you mutter, crouching to the kids height,” I only caught ‘cool’ and ‘magic’ ”, you reply, the second thing hopefully a misread as a different baritone voice speaks out from the crowd.

“he said that your eyes are pretty cool, even like they are made of magic. then asked if you were a witch.” Out on the side, stands the shorter skeleton, hands shoved into the jacket pockets as he witnessed the quick signing to the childs delight, as he jumps higher with excitement and nods. This must be Sans, the one also capable of travelling to the void. Hopefully you could tell him, practically praying, so you wouldn’t accidentally just run into him while you were changing clothes or something. You grow an evil grin, nearing the child.

“Hoooo, a witch? Curses! You’ve discovered my disguise! I guess im just going to have to put you in my cauldron and gobble you down!” you giggle, tickling fingers on the childs stomach who responds with glee, but Asgore is a ball of nerves as you near the child. Realizing his tension, you retreat to ease his mind. “And for that earlier comment, im 22 dangit. I aint a kid.” You puff your cheeks in defiance, the woman chuckling under her breath, holding a hand to her smile.

“THERE ARE REALLY WITCHES?!” come a familiar booming voice, belonging to the tall skeleton standing in the back overlooking the shorter crowd. He stares at you, literal stars resembling the one around your phone glittering in his eyesockets. Its so entrancing and unique its hard to divulge away from the stare. “I guess you could say that! I know a few magic tricks, BUUUT if I showed you any now, it would give away my secret, so no spells today!” you wink, the skeleton absolutely glowing with delight.

“Well, um….Rea?” asks the woman, hesitant she is making a mistake saying your new name, but you give her a encouraging nod to proceed, “I…If you TRULY are a bodyguard as you say, this isn’t the first time this has happened. To any of us. It would make me feel better, but I don’t want to put someone so small against those terrible men.” She regrets, but you don’t back down.

“What can I do to prove to you I can hold my own? You ask, trying to convince her of your legality.

“You can take me on, punk!” comes the other booming voice, the tall fish standing proud, a smug toothy grin spread across her face. The regal goat and the little dinosaur have a fit of no’s and pleases but you interject.

“Bring it fish-cake. How we going bout this?” You glare a grin back. She seems to like your attitude, ignoring the fish-cake bit this time as her grin just grows.

“Me, you, free brawl nothing but fists. Right now.” Keen hunger to fight fuels a fire in her eyes.

“I say we don’t do this right infront of the group, and if I can down in you 10 seconds, you owe me a drink from that barista shop. Fair?”

“HAHAH! And what do I get if I down YOU in 10 seconds?” she laughs, both of you never breaking eye contact as you break from the group to not hurt someone in the brawls process.

“Whatever you want to call. I don’t know what you want…” you cackle, relinquishing your hood, goggles and hat to the soft grass.

“Hmm…then you have to buy me and Alphys the entire Mew Mew Kissy Cutie 3 Season Pack for DVD.”

You stop dead in your tracks, eyes wide.

“Dude. I love Mew Mew Kissy Cutie. I already have the 3rd season back in my closet. After this we are friends, you can watch it all ya want, so PICK something ELSE.”

“NO WAY, SERIOUSLY?!” She stops too, and Alphys (the yellow dinosaur) squeals at the revelation of another fellow anime friend.

“Yep, so hurry up and choose something else.” You grin, readying your stance.

“Hmmm…..AH. Me and Paps have been trying to get into this gym on the west side but they only take memberships. If I win, you get both of us memberships.”

“WHAATT?!?” Screams the tall skeleton, stars forming in his eyes. He must be Papyrus. Why were these skeletons named after PC fonts?

“Undyne that’s absurdly expensive!” Toriel chimes in, trying to stop the raging brawl aura emanating between the two of you.

“Deal.” You reply, Toriel groaning in defeat to just watch as you get beaten to a pulp she will have to heal later.

“First on back is the first down, right?” you ask, Undyne flashing a crazy smile with a brisk nod. “Asgore can ya give us a count down?” you ask, Asgore looking unpleased with the entire situation.

“Very well. But Rea…….be gentle please.” He says, Undyne immediately shooting him a ‘WTF did you just say?’ as he begins the count-down.

“3….2….1!”

At one, Undyne barrels towards you at intense speed, grappling your waist before you can react. She lifts you to carry through with a body slam, but you force your arms between, breaking her hold. Aghast from the failure, she throws a wind breaking punch towards your face, but you ducked into a crouch. Reaching up hastily, you grab her arm, skidding a leg through tough dirt with a trip up, bending her arm uncomfortably as she hurls backwards. Following upward, you drive a knee to her sternum to stop her removal of the ground, settling the other against the pit of the arm pinned to the ground. Your other arm aimed to her face to punch, but you freeze, knowing its over.

She huffs a few surprised breaths, before looking to Alphys in shock.

“S….S-S-Six seconds…” she replies, following in complete astonishment. You release your grip from her giving a heavy sigh.

“Hey that’s pretty good for a first time. Nice near body slam.” You grin, heaving the helping hand already by hers and crack her wrist. She hisses a little and swings it in a circle to ensure nothing is broken, before punching you brutishly in the arm.

“OW-H-HOW!” you yelp, shielding your arm from more abuse. She cackles, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“Me and you are going to be training from now on! You gotta teach me and Paps that leg move, its pretty effective!” she compliments.

Returning the victor to Toriel, she sighs and shakes her head.

“I uh….I suppose you can be our bodyguard. But I don’t want you taking life determining risks, okay?” she asks, looking to you still as a child. You groan and appropriate your posture, facing royalty.

“Hey, if your lives are on the line, I need to be the knot that stops it. I also will need any information of previous attacks or harassment ; you know, files and catching up on culprits who are only hanging low for now.” You imply, knowing you need to prove to Baysoph that these monsters aren’t evil. They were nicer then the majority of mages at THC.

“Of course. Ah, you probably would appreciate knowing our names, yes?” she corrects, terribly offended that nobody had said their names as an introduction.

“I am Toriel Dreemurr, it is a pleasure to meet you Rea.”  She eloquently states.

Asgore shakes from the greeting list. “I think she knows me pretty well, Tori.” He says, everyone confused, but treating it as an inside joke.

“Im Undyne! You are going to lose to me soon, punk. Just you wait! If I can never beat you, that’s dishonor on my title as the Royal Guard Captain!” she barks. Called it. CALLED IT!!

“I-Im Alphys…It’s a p-pleasure to m-meet you. I-Im the Royal S-Scientist…” she humbly says, retreating behind Undyne secretively.

“NYEHEHEH! HUMAN! I AM NONE OTHER THEN THE GREAT PAPYRUS! I AM AN EXCELLENT DATER , CHEF, GUARD, BROTHER, AND I HOPE YOUR NEW FRIEND!!” he beams, putting on a strong smile as he opts to pick you from the ground and hug you close. “I HOPE YOU WILL AGREE TO TRAIN WITH ME AS WELL, TINY HUMAN.”

“T-Tiny?! But im not-ugh.” You grumble being placed down quickly.

“hey, don’t you know how to greet a new friend?” comes the opposing skeletons voice, deep and sultry even, rumbling in your ear. You turn towards him offering a hand of greeti-

PHHFFFBBBFFTT

Hiding the blush is inevitable, the chesire grin snaking wider as you stare to the skeleton in utter disbelief. You cant even make words ; laughter, groan, screams, nothing. Just complete shock.

“Im Sans. Sans the Skeleton. Sorry, whoopee cushions as are classic.” He chuckles, winking, but slowing it down upon your vacant expression.

“kid? hey, don’t have a _short_ age of emotions too.” He retries. And oh does that get him a reply. You briskly grab the sides of his hood, lifting him hardly off the ground.

“Whys everyone gotta call me SHORT?!” you yell, not taking note of the fact of how insanely light the skeleton is for looking so big underneath. He hardly seems alarmed at the grabbing, still throwing puns.

“sorry kid, trying to reach new _heights_. thanks for the _hand_.” he grins, tapping your hand.

Oh if Baysoph says they go back, he is going first.

A gentle tug at your stockings turns to be from the true child, as you let the skeleton drop to his feet to crouch and smile at the child. They had picked up on your poor ASL skills and typed their words hastily over their cellphone notes.

\---I am Frisk! Its nice to meet you ^U^ <3 Toriel is my mom, so be careful to not curse near her >.<” <3 Please be careful~

“Awww FRISK!” you squeal with glee “ That’s the most ADORABLE text I have ever seen!” you hug the child, careful and gently thanks to all eyes on you from the little joyous outburst. His cellphone begins to vibrate, and looking to the caller, he makes a gagging face and shows you the caller.

Jerry.

“OH GOD I FORGOT!!” You yell, rushing for your attire still strewn in the grass. “ASGORE, YOU SHOULD **TOTALLY** ANSWER FRISKS PHONE!!” you yell, slipping the cape and hood over in intense haste. Asgore looks to the phone, and then back to you.

“What happened?” he asked, concerned.

“UH AHEHEHH WELL UM. PRINGLES. I LEFT MY PRINGLES UP ON THE MOUNTAIN. WITH JERRY. I TOLD HIM I WOULD BE RIGHT RIGHT BACK AND HE MIGHT HAVE EATEN THEM ALL!! YEP. JUST PRINGLES.” you urge, running rapidly down the hill hardly able to control your steering and momentum. “DON’T WORRY I WILL CATCH UP WITH YOU ON THAT EARLIER SUBJECT LATER. BYE BYE!!”

Rushing to the street, you narrowly vault over a car that furiously honks at you as you skid to the other side of traffic unscathed. Running is your only option, the prying eyes of everyone from the group watching your hasty retreat as Asgore ignores the phone-call.

“Well, this has been a uh….eventful outing to say the least. I think it would be wiser if we all went home though…” the kind suggests, everyone agreeing almost instantly. Sans lingers beside the King, reading his worried expression.

“whats got you so _chilled to the bone_?” Sans puns, but the king doesn’t crack a smile.

“My past is catching up to me more then I would have liked.” he grumbles, looking to the skeleton.

They both refix their gaze to your fading figure in the distance.

“what did she really say to you?” Sans asking, the king sighing and rubbing his temple to ease his racing mind.

“That my past was on the brink of reoccurring.” he riddles.

“c’mon asgore. throw me a _bone_ here. we all saw it ; she freaked you out worse then tori has ever seen.”

“What more do you wish from me friend? Everything was the truth. She truly saved me from being shot. She truly has come to protect us.” at the last bit he chokes up, and Sans catches it.

“don’t lie to me asgore. why do you think she wont protect us?” he reasks. He sighs and turns around, facing the opposite direction besides the skeleton to view the family and friends he came to cherish.

“Because she couldn’t do it before.” he finishes, leaving the skeleton riddled thoroughly, more questions formed then answers received.

 

Reaching the base of the mountain, you pant, not used to have to run such a distance as the scythe and magic carries you. This human act was going to be taxing to say the least. Reaching the base, your pringles remain in-tact. How could you have left your beautiful cheddar pringles?! You were the true monster, shedding a crocodile tear as you greedily crunched into a few. Raps against a window occur beside you, Jerry looking agrivated.

“Hey, you ready to let me out?!”

“Jerry, you have had the ability to leave this entire time, and alls you had to do was ask nicely.”

“What? Say PLEASE?” he grumbles, the barrier immediately vanishing into a wave of magic releasing the little beast back unto the world.

“Told ya.” you shrug, biting into another chip.

He tears off headed for town when you stop him.

“Ah Jerry. If you tell a single soul about what happened today…… **You wont live to see the sun again**.”

At your darkening voice, Jerry scurries away, a tag of Velcro attached to his back that held his phone and multiple bags of chips.

Now you knew why they’d sealed the monsters underground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good chapters out today~  
> Sleep beckons me. Farewell~


	3. Time to Riddle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come to a settle down point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this chapter was just freaking stressful with no reason to be.   
> Its probably just me.  
> Enjoy!

Withdrawing into the cavernous entrance, you decide to study further into the history of the monsters at your own risk. Walking down into the rocky entrance, a light patch of grass is encased in a peeking light; peering up into the brightness proves fruitless as you deny it to the magical tendencies and abilities monsters are renowned for.

Passing an archway, you take detailed notes about the symbol lying above. Proceeding further you approach a yellow flowered room, a dusty thrown transfixed into the center as lush buttercups accentuate the orange tiled ground. An uncontrolled ivy leaks from the ceiling, coating the tiles and intermingling with the deadly flora, also hiding a tarped chair that sits soundly to the side. Treading silently through the room, you meander down onto a forked path, opting to take the left route first. Stumbling into a completely deserted room; hardly any dust left behind. Forging back, you retreat down the right path reaching more then just a dead end.

A grand window lit straight hall of columns runs a ways, the windows also bearing the insignia likely of the royal family. The magic pressure surrounding the walk is suffocating; like magic courses through the pillars as if they were veins. A battle of unthinkable proportions occurred here, but the remnants are too scattered to properly discern, merely another questioned leaf in the wind of forgetting.

Backtracking further, the Underground is much larger then you anticipated; an enormous city outlaid a sizeable castle. Plenty of the homes still lit and monsters with even a few humans wandered the distant ground. Most humans must not have taken to the sudden contact with a race that had secretly existed. The walkway goes for an eternity before leading into a subtle house, furniture dust stains left behind after the mass moving it seems. The house is subtle, comfortable, but void of any color besides the familiar buttercups. Exiting the houses front stands another long walk, though leading to a pleasant elevator.

Another tricky things monsters were supposedly known for : puzzles.

Exiting the elevator leads you into a mechanical labyrinth. Walking through, it genuinely confuses as to what the signs, the noises, the _feeling_ this location seems to breathe. Taking up a quickened pace, you exit the metal and walk straight into……a mini-mall?

A hotel lobby stands before you, a stone figurine of a calculator with arms and a microphone resting in the middle of an ivory stone water fountain; water spewing from a miniature hole in the sculpture. A group of unique looking monsters stood beside a burger-joint, patiently awaiting an elevator. A receptionist desk opposite to the group was managed by a….

Theres a giant blue hand with blood red finger-painted nails for a head behind the receptionist desk. Cautiously approaching the hand-head, you clear your throat as they turn towards you.

“H-Hey i’m lookin’ for a library or history place of monsters; got anything?” you hesitate, a hand suddenly being the most awkward being to strike a conversation with. Could it even speak ?

“Well the only still opened library is in Snowdin, the rest of our history books were confiscated for research.” she replies.

So it talks……………………………from where though? Not wanting to appear rude, you shake off the curiosity and persist.

“Okay, how do I get to Snowdin?”

“Well once you leave the main doors, head down the stairway and take your first sharp left to an elevator labelled R3. Head down to the first left floor and just walk straight til you reach the river “ she details, flexing her entire face in normal gestures along with her actual hands. It was confusing and slightly hypnotizing but a cat like monster with glasses and a single bright red heel set steps up and begins complaining about the elevator as you choose this chance to dip out of the conversation.

Taking strict the **hand** given directions (on fire today. that makes one.) you make your way to a oddly shaped elevator customized with far too many buttons. Assuming that the first left floor was L1, you hopefully press the button, the entire capsule shaking an uncomfortable amount until you reach your destination. Jarred from the odd experience, you follow a straight path, forging forward at a 3 way fork and reach a blackened cave wall, stalactites letting loose droplets shatter the stillness of the stream with miniscule waves. A faint splashing on the water approaches from an echo down the darkness, so you await the ferry on the side.

Not even a minute passes until a peculiar boat arrives. A cartoonish dog face is etched into the front, yet it moves and makes expressions as if it lived; feet running above the waters surface somehow eliciting a splash for each prance. Upon the boat is a cloaked figure humming a tune before facing you with their un-seeable face, a dark abyss inside that sounds pleasantly at you.

“Tra-la-la. I am the riverman. Or am I the riverwoman…? It doesn’t really matter. I love to ride in my boat. Would you care to join me?” they hum, swaying slightly as the continue to stare and hum their tune. It’s a familiar melody yet like a distant memory that you have no use prying in as it only ends up clogging your brain with unnecessary questions.

“Ah, yes. Can you take me to Snowdin please?” you politely ask as they kindly gesture to behind them ; hesitantly stepping onto the ‘boat’ as the head turns and a wooden tongue laps out with joy before it flies along the river.

“Tra-la-la. Tri-li-li. You are not someone who should be.” they sing, catching you off guard. You resign to sitting on the unsteady boat, thinking how much they know.

“You been reading too much Dr. Seuss or do you just like to rhyme?” you comeback.

“Tra-la-la. Tre-le-le. Just like another who vanished one day.” This person was wise for their riddles. You pursue onwards for the answer.

“Who is the person who vanished that day?”

“Tra-la-la. Tro-lo-lo. He spoke in hands, name now unknown. Tra-la-la. Tru-lu-lu. Watch out in Waterfall – next could be you.”

“Do you know who I am riverperson?” you glare, but they fall silent as the destination approaches, a swift gust of freezing wind bracing shut your eyes and a chill running through your skin. They begin to laugh, or so you presume as they continue to trill their song.

“Tra-la-la-la! I will not speak, so cause no dismay.” they finish, gesturing to the snow ridden shore. Relishing the cape, you pull it closer to brave the cold winds. A splashing erupts behind you, and as you turn the riverperson has moved on. Merely another knowledged one, even possibly there back during the war, but their magical perception was incredible if they knew who you were. Kudos to them, you think, trudging a path into what must be Snowdin (makes sense with Asgore’s naming tendencies). The entire place is scented pine trees and snow, neither making sense as they seem to thrive underground, but it is likely more magic. Friendly snow covered houses lay about, a few tiny blobs of slime playing with a rather manly wolf that stood on two feet, body the perfect replication of a furry muscled Adonis. Opting to pass that you stumble into what is presumably the square or the main section of Snowdin as it bustles with monster life. Rabbits, Slimes, Dogs, an odd mouse trailing an extensive green scarf and an orange…devil? Choosing to not question the residents, you turn the correct direction and immediately stumble upon the library.

Or……well here it’s the ‘Librarby’. Not questioning the misspelling, you proudly walk in to the minimal cache of books to behold.

Efforts completely fruitless. The humans had truly stripped all the written knowledge from the monsters, the majority of the stories being nothing but human fairytales or monster horrors ABOUT humans. The citizens looked far too gentle and unsure to question about the history, so you opt to cut your losses and leave; of course checking out a few of the monster tales that seemed slightly historical and a word-find they handed out.

Walking back to the boat, another building catches your eye, a heavy warm smoke flowing steadily from the chimney. Approaching closer, what appears to be a food establishment reflects a relaxing heat that builds and releases as the door opens to the establishment. Peering inside, an all-too familiar figure catches your eye. The fire elemental from the war, though now he clearly dawns a bartenders suit and a set of spectacles.  Not wanting to create a truly heated situation, you retreat to attack this eventual problem another time. Recalling the annoying trek back to the park, you decide to throw caution to the wind, entering the vastly tall forest of pines to create a rift in peace.

Upon entrance and firm closing of the door, you relax and loosen the apparel changes made by your magic, mentally noting to increase stamina and duration as this would likely become normal. How had this come to be? Your job was to reconstruct and amplify the strength of barriers and here you were choosing to play babysitter to one of the barrier occupants that had gotten loose. From Roamer to Baby-Sitter ; you truly had terrible jobs.

Walking freely through the void you keep a keen eye out for anymore of the off blue string, freeing your cellphone from your shorts pockets to test the connection as you dial Baysoph. As the dial tone rings you jingle the SAVE star like a bell, a pleasing hum radiating off it as the tone drops to a receive. Needless to say, the connection is truly flawless.

“Baysoph i’m reporting in. I’m taking it upon myself to study them more so I will be in this dimension for a long time. Unsure of the total extent. The humans seem to have the upper aggression and power against the monsters ; mages might not even be necessary should the humans decide they’re nothing but a nuisance.” you report.

“Heeehhehehhh…….excellent my dear……….how are you proceeding-hheeeheeh- with your interactions?” he grumbles, likely stuffing little food in with vast arrays of medicine and greedy gulps at the thinned air.

“I’m taking up position as a form of bodyguard of the monsters sir. Only Asgore and another individual seem to know what I truly am, the rest are to be kept unaware of my magical presence.”

“Another? heehuuehh who?”

“No name was offered sir, but they seemed to speak in riddles. A cloaked figure riding on a peculiar boat that was part dog? The hummed a tune and told me tips.”

“What did the-hheeeyyy say?”

“Ummm…Tra-la-la, im the riverman or woman? I love my boat, where do you want to go? Tra-la-la, tri-li-li you’re not someone who should be…” you repeat, a grunt of disapproval meaning you must continue this awkward echo.

“Tra-la-la. Tre-le-le. just like another who vanished one day. Tra-la-la. Tro-lo-lo. he spoke in hands, name unknown. Tra-la-la. Tru-lu-lu. Watch out in waterfall – next could be you. And when I asked if they knew me they said they wouldn’t tell anyone ‘to my dismay’. Should I investigate this Waterfall?”

“Hmmm….my dear, I will be-heeeeuuhhuhhheehh- be-heh leaving on an important…………request. Yoouuu are to AVOID this……Waterfall and…..heehuuhheh re-examine the memories during………the night……document reports for heeeh my return…..understood?” his ailing voice utters, as you confirm and with not even a miserable goodbye as he drops the call, the void now empty without your voices.

Returning to your thoughts, you must be cautious in the void ; no longer is it your solitary lair. Sans can supposedly enter, and possibly could have left the blue string that evaporated before you’d found this dimension. Luckily, he wouldn’t be able to recognize you ; your eyes and hair had reverted back and with minor clothing changes he wouldn’t even reconsider.

Fading away into the hazardous blackness, you relax and let time slip away to wait on the kinds thoughts and your own to settle. Checking the human clock, it reads 10 PM which is enough to cease your floating and return. Opening a void over the building you had previously landed on, you gaze out into the bustling night. Hookers, party goers, intimidating groups, monsters choosing to stick together for the terrifying night. But now wasn’t when and where you needed to be, and slipping back into your human apparel and discarding the cloak into your phones storage, you slide down the building with much more ease and grace then prior.

Following the kings magic essence is incredibly easy. He doesn’t seem able to control the intense waves of power and authority he emits that lingers in the air like the smell of bad cheese. Following the trail (scent? musk? gross…) leads to a surprising end, reconsidering the monsters situation. Hated by a solid majority number of humans, the government not seeming to give a rats ass and the general vibe of the town residing outside of Ebott, your surprised at their nice conditions.

A long street bustling with newly built houses, big ones with a hint of flair and finesse to them but not enough to rear back the ‘Im rich – get over it’ vibe. Most of the houses seem untouched, though the rare unfriendly graffiti art or something vandalized or broken is clearly noticeable. Disregarding that, it appeared like a perfect friendly neighborhood. Of course the trail leads to one of the largest houses on this street ; as in this house is 3 houses all connected to the center, like a mansion. Each house entrance displayed a different address, mailbox, and even a doormat ; the left had a bone, the center had a heart, and the right was a fish. Immediate groupings and pairings of who lived where proceeded into your brain before bravely knocking against the door.

A few moments pass…nothing stirs. Retreating back, you confirm the majority of the houses lights are on and give another persistent knock.

“Knock knock?” you feebly beg, resigning to achieving nothing at this supposedly late hour.

“whos there?” jokes a familiar baritone voice. You can hear the snickering from beyond the wood, and you play along.

“Adore.”

“adore who?”

“Adore is between us. I didn’t know you hated me so. Heart? SHATTERED.” you joke, feebly posing hurtfully as the door creaks open, a chuckling lazy skeleton eyeing back with curiosity.

“that any better?” he grins, yawning playfully as he leans against the door.

“No and yes. No because its actually sort of chilly out here and yes because I suppose you listened and now there isn’t a door between us.” you regret, snaking your fingers beneath your pits to stimulate warmth. It was likely 50 degrees and you were in booty shorts.

“well, i’d let you in – its pretty **ideal** in here though, most folks like sleep.” he yawns again, accepting the comforting warmth inside.

“Just leaving me out in the **cold** huh? **Cold** shoulder applies in every sense of the word.” you shiver, the skeleton huffing a giggle.

“what do you need? its nearly midnight, short-stuff.” he winks, your face flaring with aggravation.

“Oh my ffffff- stop calling me short! You’re only like 4 inches taller then me! And I came to speak to Asgore.” you complain, a low engine revving vibrating down the street. You turn to meet the nasty gaze of a hooded group rambling down the street in a unlicensed car. Anti-monster thugs.

“ooohh great, unwanted cavalry.” Sans grumbles, leaning back into the doorway. “step on in short-stuff. nothin’ but boys thinkin’ they’r **bad to the bone**.” he gestures, but you aggressively turn to approach the car. “kid?” he questions but you’re too far gone.

The shady low-ridder rolls to a stop as you approach the passenger side.

“Milady do you need a chauffer from these detestable vermin? Im sure they’ve done nothing but muddy your existence with their oh so humble lives.” a smooth talker suggests, a few colleagues laughing. They wield bats, and worn-down at that – likely the menaces roaming these kind streets.

“Ooohh what a gentleman! If you could-“ you suggest, the unlucky bastard taking the bait as he offers his arm from the window. You wrench the fuckers arm upwards and diagonally until something pops and he whimpers after deafening screams.

“Could you lend me a hand and drive yourselves outta this neighborhood right the fuck now? I would REALLY appreciate never having to smell you shits around here again.” you groan.

Though the posse in the back is raring to fight with the weapon advantage, the driver and passenger don’t reciprocate the same confidence, the driver punching the gas with a loud tire burning throttle as they speed down the road. Turning back to Sans who has a amazed and smug look smeared over his face you sigh and walk back ready for round two as the car had finally u-turned and drove past.

THNK.

“FFFFFF-UCK” you scream, clutching the back of your head as a rock sized item made of metal just bashed a dent into your skull.

“MONSTER WHORE!!” comes the voice of one of the men as they speed away permanently. You’re too busy clutching a growing lump, knees clutched in on the ground to even _care_ whatever they just yelled. Any attempts to rise from your low position are met with an infuriating headache and shocks of electric pain surging through you.

“hey. you ‘lright?” Sans asks, kneeling to your level to glance into your eyes. A tiny tear prick has quietly formed and runs down your face in an escape attempt, but Sans catches it with a bony digit, treasuring the sign of weakness you’d let slip by.

“Fine. Feels like they just hit me with a fucking stove.” you grumble, feeling at the increasing size of the lump.

“that **can** be arranged.” he remarks, and as you gaze at him puzzled he gestures to the dented beer can they had pelted you with.

“A beer can? Really? So unoriginal.” you scoff, wincing and instantly recalling that nothing can be done for this splitting headache until you get away. Standing with a slight wobble, Sans holds your shoulder for comfort and minor concern but you brush him off.

“If uh…Asgore isn’t up I will just come back tomorrow or something. Or in a week. Ya.” you contemplate, tenderly rubbing the sore. “Week.” you grumble, walking to the street.

“hey hey hey c’mon short-stuff. he’s up, c’mon.” Sans reassures, taking your elbow and groggily steering you to the still open door. You give no protest as he ensures you don’t fall to the sides as you stumble. Your vision was becoming slightly hazy and a sticky warmth was seeping over your hand as you compressed the lump.

Stepping into the linked abode is very homey. Pictures lined the beige flower wallpaper, the floor a cold and sleek cocoa mahogany decorated with a carpet for the thing hall you found yourself in. To the left was a staircase and further in was a coffee-table that’s only purpose was to hold the vase that waited for an array of colorful flowers to zest its white glaze with a rainbow of colors.

Entering a natural wooded living room, a brick fireplace in the slanted corner blossoms with a tiny flame, the walls covered in portraits of family members and Asgore relaxing in an enormous lounger buried into a book with a tiny set of spectacles. His fur gleams like golden hair as the fireplace illuminates the dimmed room. He glares up to your gaze, instantly dropping the book as his face changes from horror, wrath, and ending with concern. Sans seems startled at the kings sudden shifting expressions as you wave at him groggily with the blood ridden hand.

“What happened?” he asks, standing abruptly and approaching, yet remaining silent as the majority of the house was actually probably asleep.

“low-rider without the tag. hit her in the head with a beer can.” Sans replies, the king guiding you into a white and gold kitchen practically sparkling clean. He seats you at a stool near a counter while fishing around with a teapot and water.

“And you took the hit?” he asks, confused.

“My back was turned man, what else you expect from me? I ain’t perfect.” you argue, pressuring a paper towel to the lump. Asgore heats up a kettle of water as Sans settles beside you in a stool, opening a booklet that’s nothing but crosswords. “Dude. Looking at that is making my head spin.” you grumble, glaring away from the mesh of words and riddles.

“how have they **crossed** you? ah- e-q-u-a-l-i-“ he mutters, having just figured out the solution as the king sighs and pours a few cups of tea that resembles honey. You opt to picking the sad betrayed beer can and giving it a tender pet.

“I don’t know what’s more upsetting : them hitting me while my back was turned or them wasting perfectly good beer?” you grumble, briskly opening and gulping before the shaken can sprays the room.

“aren’t you too young for that?” Sans spews, you tapping off the rest in hearty gulps and then glare the skeleton down.

“Excuse me! I am old enough!” you retort, the skeleton rattling with a low laughter.

“even if you weren’t, there’s no where to distribute it.” he chuckles, eyeing your small physique. He had you there ;liquor holding never became easier……but he didn’t have to be a smart-ass about it.

“Oh please! I have had PLENTY of years of experience to know how to hold my damn liquor! I don’t need a skeleton who doesn’t even have a gullet to tell me I cant distribute my beer!” you raise. Its definitely hitting you. Fuck. Beer was a bad idea ;you always opened up when you drank. Asgore silently hushes you, concerned for any leakage of information and waking other residents.

“plenty? isn’t the legal age 21?” Sans asks, Asgore tensing greatly as he turns to observe. You’re no longer thinking straight.

“HUH?! Who do you take me for? I have been drinking for 50-“ you explain, a giant fuzzy paw smacking against your mouth to silence your rambling.

“Rea, that’s enough. He is right, you're fueled easily by the alcohol ;please.” he relaxes, gesturing to the tea.

Sipping at the tea fills you with a warm vibe, like you’d just gotten into a pleasant lukewarm bath, someone massaged your shoulders and magically removed the stinging lump on the back of your head. It pulses inside you, even caressing your soul as you gasp at the odd sensation.

“Golden flower tea…” you whisper unknowingly, remarking at the fabled healing replica that was previously traded between monsters and humans as a sign of peace. It helped with ailments, injuries, and the thought process : a warmth spreading over the body in a state of tranquil recuperating.

“heh, how’d ya know?” Sans wonders. His voice staggers you from the warming coil, the king concerned.

“Oh uh…a wild guess? I read in a book it was used through the royal family, but it was just a fairy-tale I thought…” you lie, smirking slightly to appear reminiscent.

“oooh. which one?” he pressures, a kind but fake smile as he waits on baited breath.

“Come Sans. Must we barrage her with thoughts after being attacked?” Asgore chimes in, trying to break the awkward tension and focus of Sans. Sans certainly gives him a suspicious glare, but nods off and flounders off his stool.

“ ‘lright, ‘lright, i’ll bounce. i got my **socket** on you, short-stuff.” he hums, you groaning and taking another sip of your tea as he vanishes in the direction of his supposed house, the darkness consuming the white bones.

After a few hesitant moments of insuring all the doors and windows, listening for any nearby movement, Asgore settles gulping at the tea as well, beads of sweat trickling through his fur and beard.

“This is going to be quite the feat to how long this can remain a secret.” he complains, sighing and relaxing as best he can, seating himself to Sans’ prior stool. You feel terrible but also giddy ;long lasting lies always crack you up for all the needless stress.

“Im fine with you tellin’ them. But if you don’t i'm just going to watch you squirm. Is that wrong?” you question out loud, pondering your sanity as a light chuckle comes from the king as he hangs his head low.

“……Slightly.” he mutters, taking a generous sip.

“Oh…doesn’t mean i’m still not going to do it!” you laugh, patting the defeated shoulder before reaching the subject.

“Anyway, sorry to burst in during the night but I need a few things.” you say, Asgore looking to meet your eyes, as the unsureness swirls through his mind.

“1. I need a place to sleep. 2. Reports of ANY incidents or encounters the monsters have directly had with other humans. 3. Your orders.” you list off, ending with a smile.

“A-And?” he questions, expecting more.

“Ah! Can I have one meal a day with you guys? It might help bonding and having you trust me more then you honestly do because that list was all I need………unless you want me to list off more, but those are the only requirements.” you rethink but one last question comes to mind.

“Sorry one more. 4. Who are the fire-elemental and the riverperson? Course that’s not REALLY a requirement, but more of a demanding question.” you suppose, Asgore looking troubled.

“The fire-elemental? Who?”

“Ah. Memories – I saw a fire-elemental back then, and the same one not long ago in a diner below ground. I also had a little run-in with the riverperson who is quite the riddler, but they seem to know who I was immediately. They swore to say nothing.” you reply, Asgore in sudden deep thought.

“Well, the fire-elemental you are referring to must be Grillby. He owns a bar underground and on the surface……should you show any proof of your identity, he likely wouldn’t be calm. He hides it well, but the past haunts him. As for the riverperson, even **I** am unaware to their true identity ; they hold secrets and don’t speak clearly, but if they are aware of whom you are its concerning. What did they say?” he hopes, recalling how everyone will likely want you dead.

“They were singing a tune and rhyming with it. Uhh…god uhh…tri-li-li you are not someone who should be….tre-le-le just like another who vanished one day………oh umm… tro-lo-lo he spoke in hands, name now unkown – tru-lu-lu watch out for Waterfall next could be you. What is Waterfall?” you return, the king in deep thought.

“It’s a water-riddled land in the Underground with glowing mushrooms and waterfalls. Undynes turf - but she never mentioned any man speaking in hands.” he ponders.

“Well they said their name was now unknown and that they vanished before . Can you recall anyone vanishing?” you offer, but he shakes his head no.

“Nothing. I feel an odd sense of de-ja-vu when I think about speaking with hands, but it is likely just hopeful thoughts of Frisk.”

“So back to square one. Anyone else I can ask about this stuff without making it seem odd?” you grumble, sipping more of the liquidated honey as it thrums the magic in your soul. It was a dangerous beverage ; it could cause an anomaly or surge of magic you couldn’t contain. Note to self : Drink GFT extremely moderately.

“Alphys would probably be the best, though she will question silently. She had cameras everywhere in the underground, watching over any humans and Frisk who came through… I need to rethink who can know and who cant.” he smothers his face with his hands, trying to get a grip. A thought occurs.

“Would Frisk know?” you ask, the kind groaning but laughing not long after.

“If he knew he wont say. He and Sans seem to get along as if they can read each others minds, but my child refuses to fully open up about any events. Sans cant even seem to manage it. Should you get the child to talk…well I suppose you really will have earned the title wizard.” he muses, seeming much more light-hearted on the topic as he sips the nearly empty teacup.

“I prefer witch but whatever. Now I feel like I need to be Dr. Phil. I promise I will get something out of him!” you wink playfully, dread overtaking the king suddenly as you frantic to fix the misunderstanding.

“W-What about the rest? Ya – all the other requirements.” you remind.

“I can type and print any reports of incidents tomorrow, and what else?” he forgets.

“A place to stay and your orders. Do I need to go easy on these guys or…y’know can I wreck their faces? Because I totally broke a guys arm out there nonchalant.” you hesitate, the gentle monsters probably not seeking the death of the hate groups.

“Nothing more then that please. If anything try to just ward them off and protect my people. As for the residency requirements……” he withholds, pondering the options nervously. While waiting, you clean the emptied tea-set and bring them to the sink, rinsing the stains and smudge.

“Here.”

“Huh?” you ask, turning the rushing water off and wiping dry your hands.

“You can stay here. But under strict rules!” he corrects, taking a sterner approach. Your eyes widen, intaking the information the brave bastard was giving you.

“I don’t want you alone with anyone; you’re to inform me when you’re going somewhere and if you’re going with someone I need exact coordinates and time-schedule, or some way of contact. I want to keep strict track of your movement. Every night it would also be good to report the days events, but that can be extended to every few days. Should anyone in this house give you orders or anything, you’re to strictly follow them. If its questionable, please check in with me. No magic – period ; I refuse to risk your exposure and I will die before I let it accidentally hurt anyone. I…I just-“

“Its fine.” you remind, Asgore looking absolutely exhausted after the stern outbreak, “I need to be allowed to use it in emergencies though, your majesty. Like moving somewhere fast or saving a life? I also need to escape to my lair to destress and let loose. Know how much concentration it takes to focus your energy to change your apparel and for extended periods of time? I need to be allowed to ‘vanish’ for a while, and I highly doubt a tracker will work where I ‘vanish’.” you subtly remind.

“I can understand that, but if you can I want to know when and for how long. You need to proceed with great caution and you cannot be caught under any circumstances unless an utmost emergency.” he corrects, you giving a faint nod. “Did you get all that? Im sorry to throw so many rules onto you, but I merely seek the security of my friends and family…”

“Its fine your majesty. Don’t be alone with monsters, let you know where I am, report in daily, follow anyones orders, no magic. That all? That’s pretty much what I did before hand!” you joke, recalling the even stricter set of rules the court had stuck to you like a leech. “Oh, I might also need to dip out every now and then ;my job before anything is to ensure the other barriers don’t break, so I might need to check them weekly as I have done before.” you remind, the king agreeing to your terms.

“Your room is on the highest floor of our house. Its pretty sized and nobody wanted to have to travel so far in a possible sleep deprived state. I hope that’s alright…” he announces. You give a curt shrug as he finally stands and leads you towards the stairs. Dropping down to a hesitant whisper  as you both make your way up the stairs he questions further.

“What was that incident with Jerry?” he asks, you halting and looking guilty.

“He was really pushing my buttons so I kinda…ya know…back behind bars?” you slyly comment, making a hand mimic of a barrier to help drive the point.

“You can form one by yourself?!” he quietly shrieks, covering his mouth as you pass his bedroom, a faint snore echoing off the door.

“Ya dude. If I couldn’t I would be pretty shit at my job.” you curse, him shushing as a final door before the next set of stairs with a wooden slab labelled Frisk adorned with little flowers hangs proudly. Cant curse by children – got it.

Finally reaching the 3rd floor you’re amazed at how spacious it is for just one door. He fiddles around and you discover this door has been locked all this time as he generates a key from his pants, handing it to you. Opening the door, it’s a pretty big room that holds anything that wasnt needed previously. It also appears to be Frisks secret play area as toys are scattered around. Asgore looks concerned.

“How did Frisk get in here? I thought I had the only key……must have missed one. Im sorry I will retrieve his key in the morning. Um…” he recollects, unable to deny the unsavory condition of the room. It was spacious, windows pointing straight to the sunset, the curtains non-existent. The grey wood flooring is dusted over severely from the year of neglect the family gave it. A single bed strewn with old books is littered over it, a snug ball comprised of the sheets settled on top, pillow stolen. There is a private study attached and even a bathroom, but they are equally neglected. A sad discovery ; someone had climbed the building, broken the window, and dumped an entire can of paint into the bath-tub and majority of the once pristine lavatory.

“That’s impossible…I didn’t-“ Asgore looks mortified, discovering that someone entered his house so easily.

“Its fine Asgore. They couldn’t do anything since the room was locked and they no longer will be able to get nearly as far with me here. Im going to need a few days to settle in, proper up the place if you can understand.” you shrug, opting to close the now olive green bathroom.

“Im okay with that but the thought…the thought that Frisk was in here and could have been…all alone……I don’t know what I would do if he went missing……what WE would do…” he rephrases, deep thinking a miserable thought as he covers his snout to silence his speech.

“Alright c’mon you fuzzy royal. Go get some sleep. I’ll prove myself to you yet and keep the whole shin-dig a secret – so go get some sleep. Imma try and clean this place up in the morning. Go on, lock me in if it’ll make you feel any better.” you suggest handing him the keys. “I wont judge you, and that way nobody can bust in to the surprise of me being here.”

With a reluctant and tired yawn, he takes the keys, quietly shutting the door with a form locking click.

Okay you judged him a little, but it was fine. He had every reason to strict you with a mass of rules, to consider you a threat to his now humble and happy life. Despite the cold, you open a window and fish through your phones inventory for a jacket, pillow, and proper sheets. Of course why would you carry sheets? The comfort is finding 2 blankets to replicate sheets for the time being, tossing the balled covers to the side and laying them out onto the dirty mattress. Removing the books, you scour the titles. The majority are more monster fairytales, yet a more crafted one is found in the rubble, torn and soaked, labeled with “dIarY” in confusing childish writing.

Not being one to waste an opportunity, you flip through the pleasant read. A miniature adorable neatly written 'Frisk' waits inside the cover. A child like him must have a broad horizon of stories that could help you get some needed rest. Besides, it was his fault for not keeping such a private book out of reach...then again he must have thought this place was so out of reach, despite his parents having a key. Taking a moment to reconsider, you only realize you've read through the first 4 pages before you give into curiosity, hoping satisfaction will bring you back.

Day 1 ----today I met toriel, sans and papyrus. they are so nice! they are so much nicer then my parents. I want to stay here, with them.                                   

Day 4 ----undyne and alphys finally called me their friend. They like each other and im determined to help them see it. undyne asked me to give her a letter, but we ended up going on a date. it was really fun!

Day 6 ----when should I tell them? I don’t know what happened, but I slipped and fell. I woke up and I was back to that date with alphys. they said I loaded. Who are they? Flowey is missing.

Day 7 ----Flowey found us. It was planned. but he is still my friend. He just isn’t thinking right.

Day 9 ----I reset. I don’t know how. I don’t understand. Im back at the start, meeting toriel, my mom. she doesn’t recognize me, she is repeating her words. I don’t understand.

Day 12 ----Undyne killed me. I woke up back in moms. A voice told me my determination brought me back, let me reset, kept me alive. That I can meet my friends and enjoy that feeling over and over.

Day 13 ----I reset. Its true. I met mom again. I am so happy!

Day 27 ----I have lost count of how many times I reset. I am going through quicker each time, the same talks, the same faces, the same fights. Its…changing me.

Day 30 ----The voice gave me an idea. I don’t know about it…they told me to kill instead of love. If I hated it, I can reset and they wont remember.

Day 32 ----It is easier to kill but it feels wrong. Its different then normal but I dont know what I want to do now. They are encurging me, and I am becoming stronger. This is new.

Day 35 ----I killed Papyrus. Again. But this time I didn’t reset. Why am I smiling?

Day 37 ----This knife is covered in dust. Im covered in dust. This is wrong and right. How am I doing?

Day 39 ----Sans is so strong. I never knew. He has killed me so many times I lost count. Its good he is keeping count.

Day 40 ----Sans is scary. Sans is tough. Sans is **DETERMINED**.

Day 46 ----What have I done. I cant take it back. No matter what I do the voice is there. She is taunting me, playing with me, she even killed flowey. I cant stop. I hate this!

Day 47 ----Its so dark. I cant see! I want to leave!! She is laughing again. Please! STOP!!

Day 48 ----STOPITNOOO NOOONOONONOONO PLEA **STOPIITTT _K_ i**L ** _l_** _K_ **I _l_ L** _K_ ** _i L_L _k_** _Il_ ** _LPLeAsep_** L _E_ A ** _se ~~Ki~~_ ~~L~~ _ ~~lK~~_** _ ~~li **L**~~_ ** _ ~~kI~~_** _Ll_

Day 50 ----Stop, please. Im so tired. Please dont hurt them anymore. Dont hurt me anymore. PLEASE. **PLEASE STOP. LEAVE _THEM ALONE PLEASE!!_** please. im so sorry. im so sorry, everyone. someone please help.  **help me.**

Day 61 ----I finally got Chara to listen. We made it to the top! All of us, even Flowey. I cant bring Mr. Goop with me. Im sad, but I will visit him. He is too alone.

Day 74 ----The kids at school bully me. The police think mom took me. Sans and Undyne got in trouble, Papyrus is so worried. He didn’t make spaghetti.

Day 78 ----Chara beat up kids for me at school. Mom got in trouble, but Dad took the blame. Sans came home and said he could now be called my dunkle. I love my friends. They are amazing. I hope this lasts…I wont let it reset.

Day 81 ----I broke all the SAVEs. Nobody knows. Nobody needs to. I wont let it happen not again. Im happy. We are happy. Me, Flowey, and Chara. This is our family. We are home.

An adorable scribbling of a group of monsters, all neatly labeled rests on the next page, a yellow flower labelled Flowey and a faceless girl in a green sweater with a wide smile labelled Chara. They must have trouble drawing skeletons as Papyrus is a stickfigure with scribble ribs and a red scarf, Sans resembling a achromatic potato in a blue shell. Undyne and Alphys are similar but spinier, Asgore and Toriel coming out nicely, though more to the sense of furries in costume. For some reason, they intensely scribbled a blob with a white spot near the top, but it wasn't labeled. It wasn't bad considering how complex all his friends appeared ; valiant effort on his part. 

All entries after that are similar : go to school, talks about friends and jokes, minor troubles, but nothing comparing to that meshed violent scribble. This wasn’t a kids imagination. Who were these other people : Flowey and Chara? Mr. Goop? Those violent scribbles back near the 50 day pages were nightmarish, violent and desperate. But something else struck your interest. Frisk knew about the SAVE stars.

You will need to report this, but surely not to Asgore. Maybe not even Baysoph. Not until you understood this better.

Clutching the book close, you cradle underneath the blankets on the dusty mattress and slip into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real quick : No the little frisk diary part with the encurging ISNT a typo ; Frisk is a kid, I just figured he would have a minor issue with spelling. I know I struggle, and im a young adult! Kids be allowed to misspell. Same goes for all the diary mis-punctuation, commas, apostrophes, etc. I swear - Its on purpose.


	4. Time for Heavy Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Asgore sucks at holding secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10,000+ Words....Why. Why do I do this to myself, over and over?

Waking up with a slight hangover is your curse.

Waking up to someone picking the lock to your room is your literal problem.

The fumbling and aggravated grunts coming from beyond the lock spring you into action, but you retreat to the wall and listen closely.

“dammit – why did he lock it?” comes a tiny voice a bit too high-pitch and deviant to be human. The doorknob gives in to the retaliating pick, as the door flies open, shielding your line of sight and theirs as it flies open to conceal you. A tiny set of feet wander in, scampering around.

“Hurry UP Frisk!” growls the voice, the padding feet jumping to rustle the fixed sheets. You concede your hiding spot, speaking up and stepping out.

“Frisk?” you hush, catching the child as he shifts through your blankets.

“Who are you?!” comes the tiny voice, and looking down to the doorway is a miniature yellow petal flower with a white center, a cartoonish face stuck in a scowl as it looks up from its small pot, adorned with colorful hearts.

“Ah. A monster. Im Rea ; Asgore gave me this room since I’m the new bodyguard. And who might you be little one?” you crouch down, trying to level with the shorter monster.

“Flowey.” he growls in return, his face tense as he scans you thoroughly.

“Well, nice to meet you Flowey. Mind telling me why you and Frisk are up breaking into this room at-“ you pause to glance at the clock before returning to Frisks figure with a knowing smile “-8:30 in the morning?”

Frisk rushes to defend Flowey, though it looks more like he is stopping him as the flowers face mildly contorts to stuff of nightmares.

‘I left something up here.’ he signs, trying to avoid conflict. Agreeing with a nod, you stand and fish around the sheets, finding his diary.

“This it kiddo? Any other secret stuff you got hiding up here?” you poke, handing the diary to the very pleased child who checks the contents before safely stuffing it under his sweater.

‘No. I’m sorry we didn’t knock. I was worried dad found it.’ they sign, a grateful grin growing across their face as they bend back to carry Flowey. Vines rim the edge of the ceramic, moving ever so slightly as the flower continues to groan and scowl, averting from your stare.

“Hey Frisk.” you stop them before they wander far, and they come scrambling back.

“You remind me of me as a kid. Happy, enthusiastic about life. So full of energy and a need to share happiness with all those around you, right?” you ask, Frisk bobbing their head in agreement, their hair flailing loosely, entwining in on itself. Some rests on one of Floweys petals, much to their dismay, as they shrink towards the soil, hissing at the threadlike follicles.

“Well Frisk, I was…… _different_. People distanced themselves from me because of that, but it didn’t stop me trying to be nice. I went through a-lot and never let it show, but I was quite miserable : hiding in my room, keeping worries to myself. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to **read** that somethings wrong and you wont say anything.” you joke, poking lightly at the book concealed under their sweater. A light giggle comes from them, but they hide their face from your view.

“I will tell you this Frisk : bottling up these problems, these... _feelings_ or whatever you have going on? It’ll cut you short in the long run. I talked to your Pops – he is worried because you never talk to him or your mom or even Sans about your problems. I don’t mean to pry and pick, I just don’t want you to end up like me.” you finish, ruffling his hair. Flowey is growling hesitantly as you pull away, clear distrust in his face. They must be very close, these two. You refuse to tell him you read in on his secret ; maybe you could get him to open up , relinquish his secret barrier in a sense. Standing up, you check your same attire before nudging Frisk and company out the door. Frisk pushes Flowey into one arm, tugging your shorts with the other for attention.

‘Whats wrong with you?’ they sign, a multitude of questions likely scouring their poor tiny brain. You sigh and take Frisks shoulder, leading them downstairs.

“What isn’t?”

 ------------------------------------------

Wandering to the downstairs, Frisk quickly distances himself and rushes the kitchen. Following behind at a much slower and early pace, Toriel and Asgore are crafting breakfast pancakes, a rich syrup wafting through the air. Coming into the open, Asgore tenses at the sight, but slowly relieves as you stand back giving a gentle wave. He gestures you forward and you take a seat at the counter. Toriel turns to you with a big smile, but her eyes read differently. Very judging and testy, looking for flaws. She says nothing but gives Frisk a peck on the cheek.

“Thank you again for letting me dorm upstairs. I can understand its pretty awkward to just let someone like me stay, but I mean this : I really appreciate your hospitality.” you express. Nobody visually softens to your gratitude, but Frisk starts signing.

‘Mom, we’re going to be late!’ the stress, cheeks stuffed with fluffy pancakes.

“I understand dear, but don’t sign with a mouthful ; it’s rude.” she replies, wiping away some syrup on the messy face with a wet napkin.

“Ah, where you heading to kid?” you ask, feeling out of place in this happy family vibe.

‘School!’ they delight, swallowing hard and sharing some pancake with Flowey. The upset flower hasn’t spoken much and continues to drawl a menacing stare in your direction. You ignore the fiendish gaze, trying to enthuse about the education system.

“Ah, right. Mondays.” you recall, contemplating if you could speed time to end this first annoying week faster. This was obviously dubbed the awkward week, all the odd stares, quiet questions? This was the week they were coming out on. You consume some of the given pancakes, amazed by Toriels skill.

“Mrs. Dreemurr these are _really_ good! Compliments to the chef!” you mutter, trying to cover your mouth as to not be rude and show the half chewed delicacy. She giggles, but has a confused smile on her face. Asgore looks tense, hiding his face behind the morning newspaper.

“Ah-haha. Well thank you dear. Come along my child. Get your school bag and shoes ready.” Toriel asks, Frisk happily jumping from their seat to find their shoes, Toriel picking up Flowey. She grabs a purse and a light coat and heads to the door awaiting Frisk.

“Ah, Toriel? Want me to walk them to school?” You offer, probably to Asgores displeasure but you don’t spare him a glance as Toriel waves it off.

“Oh thank you Rea but I work as a teacher so we are both headed the same way anyways. Thank you though. Have a good day, and please be careful.” she calls back, Frisk rushing out the door, plucking Flowey enthusiastically from her grasp as she closes and locks the door. Asgore lets out a sighed relief, relishing a drink of coffee to help pass the morning.

“Anyone else in the house?” you question, tone changing to the solitary confinement.

“No. Everyone is at work. As will I in an hour, which leaves the question of what you will be doing.” he mutters, ruffling his hair, pulling a heavy stressed paw down his exhausted features to tangle and twist his shaggy beard.

“Hey, you’re the boss. I can waste time in my lair, get to moving stuff in, go do some patrolling, get to know some folks. A terrible first impression it would be to just tell me to stay put, hidden away until the most opportune time.” you drawl, putting away your dishes and fiddling around with a mug. “Got any cocoa?”

“Ah, top left shelf.” he says, pointing the way where you find the delicious powder. Not huge on coffee in the morning – it crashed too hard for your liking. “ I suppose settling in and patrolling would be best. I’ve written out the reports should you wish to survey them, but the only other thing to be done is Frisk finishes school before anyone gets out from work and I would feel better if……if _you_ walked them home.” he grumbles, not enthused by his final decision. He gives you the address and time school gets out gasping as he suddenly pulls out a small box, gesturing it to you.

“What is it?” you ask as you open it. Inside lays an adorable bracelet, vined with thinned metal and very intricate. It has a different colored crystal in small sockets, glimmering against the sun with a rainbow. It even has a watch installed into it! Reviewing the unprecedented gift, you give him a thankful gaz-

“Your tracker.”

…”Oh.”

“I’m sorry! I-I don’t mean it rudely, but I wouldn’t lie about the matter. It will appear like a normal bracelet I hope.”

“No. Its uh…fine.” you comment, clipping on the tricky tracker as Asgore sighs with relief, leaving to prepare for work.

You take the moment to look around the house, notice all the photos and lively pictures hung through the house. Plenty of them involve Frisk, but some are special holidays or occasions. A particular one strikes you as serene yet impactful : A distance shot of everyone laying on their backs near a lake, admiring the night-skies stars. Sans has a pair of binoculars, though its pretty unhelpful, yet they all look so bewildered in awe at the open ocean of stars. Who could blame them? Asgore walks back out in a very standard grey and beige suit, fiddling with car keys as he takes a sharp glance at you.

“You have your tracker, yes?” he questions, and you groan and show that the pretty bracelet hasn’t left your wrist. He fiddles with the tie, his paws trying to properly loop the human contraption until you give in and tie it for him. He hides his embarrassing shame with a lingering silence.

“You should get a clip-on until you can do this alone.” you suggest, straightening the finished product.

“I will consider it. Thank you, goodbye, and please don’t cause any unnecessary trouble.” he pleads before leaving the house. The millisecond the door closes, you whip out your multiverse phone, calling a familiar face as you creak upstairs. A few dial rings in and the other end happily receives.

“Hello?” comes the soothing voice you missed like a fish misses water.

“Why hello there!! Can you do me a favor Mir-Mir?” you coo Mirage, an excited squeal erupting from the other end.

“Where have you BEEN little time-rift jumper?!” she screams, through, threatening to break your eardrums.

“Face up and I can show you.” you riddle, allowing the camera as you freely use magic to levitate the phone, side-pulling a holographic screen that emits a familiar face. Mirages hair has decided to flow upwards today, resembling a reverse waterfall with a deep blue radiating through, her pale complexion contrasting resembling foam or snow. Through the phone she can see your room, and her face turns to one of horror.

“Oh dear. What happened?” she asks, surveying before you allow your human-form into view, to which she yelps. “Oh my god. You look _adorable!!_ ” she awes, looking at your form like an infant.

“Not the time Mirage. I need you to go to my room and send stuff to my storage – I need to make this place a little homier. Going to be here a while.” you grouch, pulling a vacuum from storage and starting on the dust infestation. Mirage carries the phone to your room while still upholding conversation.

“I heard you were on a long-lasting mission before Baysoph left. Can you tattle?” she begs, giving an innocent puppy dog eye.

“Alls he told me to do was go between worlds doing what I was doing before : resealing and amping barriers and seals. Well I stumbled onto this world and the Ebott barrier was absolutely destroyed; nothing left of it.” you tell, her giving a light gasp as she sneaks through the halls.

“What was inside? How did it break?”

“Well, inside were a vast species of monsters, varying a lot in appearance and type. Well they have been essentially roaming about for a year now, and the humans here are giving them more shit than they are them. If they are safe enough to allow here, it could mean one less barrier in our world!” You enthuse, making your way to the pink painted bathroom with a grieving sigh.

“Can you send me some dish soap? Oh and a bin.” you ask, glancing back to the camera which has slowly floated through the quarters.

“Coming right up!” she beams, rushing into your room and reaching the bathroom, fumbling around until your phones storage gives a pleasing ping. Instant storage transfers, where would we be without you? you ponder, pulling the requested items free and filling the bin with warm water and dish soap.

“Alright. Need anything else?” she mumbles, relaxing on your bed after locking the door for privacy.

“Sure uh, give me a quick scope of the room.” you request, her giving a long gaze about before making final decisions. She sends your bed, laptop and charger, camera, a vast amount of empty notebooks and history books, even anything she can swipe from Baysophs stash. Taking a risky step, you erect a thin concealer barrier around your private study, ensuring no way in or out without an incantation. Childs play really. Nobody can enter through the void, leaving it as a cut off segment stringed to the world with mere words. For another safety measure, you place two key-locks in the doors knob and contemplate the placement of the keys for later as you lay them on your bed.

With the barrier sealing the insides, you ask for your magic-studies bookcase, realm-watcher, and your multiverse computer setup. Hooking it up is the real issue, but afterwards it makes a reasonable area to further study magic. Atleast, foreign magic. With permission, of course. Disconnecting the SAVE from your phone-strap, you leave it behind in the sealed room, exiting and enchanting the door. Four locks too much? Psh.

“Oh its already lookin’ better!!” she squeaks, looking around at the cleaned space.

“Alright, got any wood buffer, coating glaze, wax? What am I doing here?” you list off, trying to decide how to slick the mistreated wood.

“Girl you are SO demanding. Where am I supposed to find any made for wood? We don’t have wood floors here.” she argues, scoffing at your mistake.

“Can you blame me for forgetting? I have visited once in 139 rounds, and who the hell knows how much time has gone by? Not me – I was swimming around in the fucking ‘between’ or the ‘void’ as they call it here.” you grumble, locating a set of companion rugs that suit the room nicely and cover the unshined floor.

“The void? Well I suppose it suits more then ‘the between’, but that’s TECHNICALLY what it is……right?” she asks, unaware of it herself. Only you, Baysoph and Zebbulon have the ability to safely wander the ‘between’. The last cocky bastard vanished for 20 years, came back spewing riddles in a foreign language he’d alienated for himself for a sense of sanity.

“Now who’s the unknowledged?” you chuckle, setting the bed into proper place, placing a dresser between the windows with a black set of curtains.

“I don’t see it as unknowledged, more along the lines of ‘I want nothing to do with it’?” she corrects, both of you cackling at the simple hatred. “Less void talk, more info talk. How do they know about the void?” she presses, eyes filled with a want indescribable.

“Someone here can access it through rifts, or as he says ‘shortcuts’. He seems to be the only issue to them finding out my identity.” you grumble, fixing the bedsheets and plugging in your laptop before hitting the real problem : the bathroom. The dish-soap had blended well in the hot water, and taking a razor, you begin to chisel away the pink mess.

“God that looks like a pink nightmare. Like pink vomit nightmare. ANYWAYS! So someone there can roam the ‘in between’ as well?! You don’t understand how incredibly vital that is.” she urges, and you groan waving the razor about to mimic her babble.

“Yes yes I understand, it’s a dying practice because of all the risks, insecurities, and insanity. But you wouldn’t understand the peace of it if I showed you, so why bother explaining? Anyway, its not a mage who can access it ; it’s a monster.”

“WHAT?! That’s AWESOME!! You should totally fuck him!” she demands, throwing you off.

“What the HELL Mir!?” you bite, looking to her in sheer raged embarrassment.

“I don’t mean it like the others, but do you have ANY idea the magic fluctuates monsters have, and on top of that _HE_ can access the ‘in between’? I know you like freaky men, so this is LITERALLY perfect!!” she explains, not helping the blood rushing your face. Ignoring all thoughts, you proceed to scrape the paint away.

“Mir, he’s a fucking magical skeleton.” you snap, grinding away. She audibly gasps and falls silent, scaring you that the line has been called as you look to the holographic screen. Her eyes are huge, her smile pinching her cheeks against her sneering eyes.

“Hey. You could totally-“

“If you finish that fucking sentence I will NOT forgive you.” you growl, the silence continuing before you proceed at the task at hand.

“………… **bone** him.” she jokes, falling back into a disorderly fit of giggles and wheezes, contemplating the possibilities. You groan and jerk the phone from its floatation.

“Goodbye Mir.” you snap, turning off the phone and rubbing at the temples in frustration. Fiddling about with the musical options, you finally settle for remixes and originals, spending another two hours chiseling away.

Backing up to review the work, everything still has a slight pink tint to its once pristine white and ivory reflection, but with time and thorough cleaning, it could get fixed. Stepping free from the lavatory, you take in your dirtied clothes and begin rummaging through your dresser for cleaner attire. Abandoning the tattered clothes, you pick out a black tank with a broken heart symbol across the back, fitting a loose see-through sweater overtop for some cold protection. Pulling on clean underwear in the process, you disrobe the booty shorts for frayed jeans, fitting into comfortable combat boots before plugging headphones into your phone and strolling out to the downstairs.

Pocketing through the cupboards, you find a little bag of chips for a snack, and while happily pillaging, you find a board of work dates and times. It appeared that Papyrus and Undyne both got out the soonest, and that was an hour after Frisks school time was up, so it gave you plenty of time to bring him home. Everyone else seemed to be home within the next hour. While watching the time, you pondered as to the jobs everyone had. Undyne probably did something involving physical strength, and Alphys something scientific. Toriel worked at the school as a teacher, and considering how important the king was and his formal suit, Asgore probably landed an executive career of sorts that paid well. The brothers were confusing, but also predictable. Sans probably had a simple job, while Papyrus being so enthusiastic worked with people. Speculations aside, you could just ask later on.

Flipping through the TV, the news cast don’t seem much for smiles. Any pleasing stories are around the world, and something about a ‘Marvelous Debut Coming from MTT to You!’ but it sounded high-end, and you switched to the actual weather. Rain. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Groaning and standing, it was time to get pick-up Frisk. Asgore had left a key to the house behind but had insisted if it wasn’t there when you were he’d be apprehensive. Jingling the key into your pocket, you nab a large umbrella from storage before you hit the town.

Checking the tracking watch, you had another hour before having to pick Frisk up from school, so you head to the education building and scope out the scene. Of course the walk is half an hour long and with the blasted traffic it takes another ten minutes. Finally reaching the building, a thin trickle of human and monster students appear from the kindergarten. Keeping a keen eye, all of the monster children are escorted out in family cars, while the rest get on a bus. Children might not be as aggressive as adults, but they don’t understand everything.

A monster child flies out the door, no arms and a little backpack chomped in their teeth, and they instantly face-plant the sidewalk before you can react. Reaching out to the child, a group of young bystanders passes by, hysterics as the point at the poor armless kid. Stepping before the kid, you stare harshly at the children, a stern piercing stare that has them quaking in their odd rain-boots. Fleeing the scene to scramble onto a bus, you help lift the yellow kid to his stumbling feet. You pick up his backpack, tapping the dirt off it and offering it back.

“Wow! Thanks!” he beams, chomping down on the bag before giving a hard nod of approval, running off into a friends car as they drive away. The rain starts to come down, so you pull free your umbrella and prepare for the downpour. Another five minutes of waiting pass before Frisk in a little raincoat and rain-boots comes out, happily splashing in the puddles. You give a distinctive whistle, and they whirl around with excitement before running over.

“Hey kiddo. Nice little water-proof suit! Looking snazzy.” you compliment, admiring the deep yet bright red coat and boot set that suited him, ruffling the water from his hair as he pulls over his hood.

‘You came to pick me up?’ he signs, hopping delicately into a forming puddle, admiring the splash radius.

“Yes sir. I am your escort Rea. I will be seeing you home. Now c’mon. No Flowey?” you ask, the child gladly taking your hand as you begin the trek back, only dropping it to momentarily sign.

‘Mom gave him detention.’ he frowns, a tiny squeeze in his little fingers.

“Ouch. I didn’t know Toriel could drop the hammer.” you ponder, Frisk looking concerned suddenly. You catch it, fixing your mistake “It’s a figure of speech! You know she wouldn’t do that. Its Toriel!” you nudge, careful of the cars splashing the sidewalks.

‘She gets very mad at him because of who he is and what he was…’

“What does that mean?” you ask, but Frisk shakes their head in disapproval.

‘I promised not to say.’ he signs, and you give a accepting shrug of the shoulders. It wouldn’t stay a secret forever likely. Frisk breaks the following silence by giving your arm a tug. With his knowledged guidance, he leads you into a bakery that can only be described as loli-convention. The owner is a sweet looking spider, lilac skin with black thin hair pulled back. She wears a chichi maid uniform very frilly and petite to match the store. Frisk heads to the counter, shaking off the wet coat and taps excitedly, you warily continue forward, reading the customers who don’t seem judgemental. A silky voice emits from the counter, the spider drawing near.

“Ahuhuhuuhuhu! Hello Frisk dearie. How are you?” she charms, stretching extra limbs over the counter to cup preciously at his face. Frisk pats the counter wildly, a grin growing despite the pinches. You clear your throat after returning to his side, the spider monster halting her pinching to scan you over before coming around the register.

“Who might you be sweetie?” she asks, doing a shark circle around you, eyeing down your petite physique.

“Ah, I’m Rea. Monster bodyguard.” you extend a hand and are meted with three. To say it isn’t terrifying how she spindles her arms freely through the air each with a different objective would be an understatement. However, there have been much worse encounters with giant spiders, and they didn’t talk.

“Bodyguard? Dearie you would be much more adorable in one of my work uniforms!” she coos, lifting your arms and mentally taking in your measurements. She seemed a lot like Mirage except…grabbier. Protesting by pulling away with a hand, you give a disapproving wave.

“Ah, thanks but no thanks. I’m not built for frilly stuff. I-We stopped by to……why did we stop by?” you whisper to Frisk, Frisk hopping with joy as they fumble with their backpack, pulling free a gift-card for two free spider donuts.

“Ah! Ahuhuhuu~ Thank you Frisk deary! I’ll go fetch your donuts.” she squeals, taking the gift-card and rushing to the back. You look down at the child who is patiently waiting, fighting the urge to playfully ring the bell.

“I hope your saving the other one for someone at home.” you suggest, not wanting to be bribed by a free pastry. Frisk denies it as the spider comes back with a little baggy.

“Here you go Frisk. Ah, I forgot to introduce myself! Ahuhuhuhu~ I am Muffet, the owner of Silk Sweets.” she mottos, tapping the spider crawling over a croissant logo. Its peculiar but something you can get behind in an odd way. “Are these for here or to go dearies?” she asks, handing the bag to you as you peer inside to admire the purple coated pastries, with a white drizzle resembling web. _Maybe_ you could be bribed.

‘Here! Oh please!’ Frisk begs, pointing to the thick pelting of rain coming down now. Checking your tracking watch there is time to spare, and telling the others of the reasons you were late, they obviously wouldn’t be too bothered, right? The worst could be that you let Frisk eat sweets before dinner. Giving into temptation and a dry environment, you and Frisk happily take a booth by the windows to chow down.

You could _totally_ be bribed with these donuts. They have a unique fluff to them, and whatever Muffet used as a drizzle? Genius. You greedily finish the donut, Frisk starting mindless chit-chat about how your day had been, what did you do home alone, how they liked your sweater. Overall this seemed nothing more then a pit-stop to slow the upcoming ramble of ‘do your homework’. But hey, homework sucked, and it wasn’t your specific job to make sure he finished it. Glancing at your watch, you bite down a curse as in fifteen minutes people would be getting home. Picking up the umbrella and ushering Frisk back out, you’re both met with the unrelenting downpour as you give a kind wave back to Muffet, leaving behind Frisks backpack.

Coming to a busy intersection, a car pulls to the side by the crosswalk as you press the lane button. Waiting patiently for the switch, Frisk huddles to you for more warmth, the cold brisk rain pelting the umbrella. Impatient, you jab the button again, waiting for the light to switch, giving you time to take in the suspicious vehicle. Black pick-up, general license-plate with a broken heart on both sides of the plate. The symbol looked familiar, but Frisk was tugging at your sweater because the crosswalk was available. Accepting back the tiny hand and making it to the crosswalk, the pick-up roars its engine, flying towards you both. For a brief second, you glimpse past the tinted windows and catch a familiar face : the bastard whos arm you broke yesterday was once again playing in the passenger seat. The anti-monster gang.

Without a hesitation, you threw the umbrella, whisking Frisk off the slippery road into your arms, face buried into your sweater. Propelling forward with a slight punch of magic to your feet, you barrel out of the way of the pickup, stuck in the middle of a busy intersection as you scramble to your feet and clutching Frisk close. Running to the sidewalk for safer ground you’re met with the ground yourself, a hidden raincoat cloaked person bashing you over the head with a bat. Frisk tumbles from your grasp, the cloaked individual grasping your vulnerable position, locking your arms behind your back with a harsh pull, knee wedging into your spine.

“Where the hell you think you’re going? You deserve five times the punishment you dished out yesterday night. That was a _big_ mistake.” they press, driving their boney knee into your spine harder. Another pair of footsteps approaches, Frisk backing away in fear. The cock of a gun nearby signals a retreat.

Carefully surging magic through your veins, into your legs, you arch your back to tumble the foe behind forward. Painfully, you drive your head back in unison with the attackers, clocking him in the forehead as his grip loosens at your sweater by the wrists. Taking this opportunity, you thrust backwards, the sweater slipping off easily as you forge forward, cupping Frisk into your grasp and pummeling turf instantly. Frisk clutches desperately at your tank as you cut through a park where the vehicle cant follow, diving straight into the woods regardless of direction other then ‘away’. Fighting them all without magic, not horrifically hurting them, _and_ having to keep a careful eye on Frisk wasn’t a good combination; the dense rainfall and slippery terrain also fighting against you.

Running through the forest, you keep a steady pace, ragged breathing fogging the chilling air as the trees do little to cease the cold pellets hitting your bare skin. Thick brush and branches scrape at you as you continue to bound through the forest until you need a moment to catch your breath, setting Frisk down as with the heavy breathing, you survey for clearance.

“Yo-huh g-good Frisk?” you gasp, clutching your chest and forcing a slower breathing to ease the jumping heart within. Frisk nods quickly, clutching your shoulders to assist with stopping the burdened heaves for air. His warm fingers are incongruous against your frozen skin, but the touch is welcoming as you pull them closer for safety and kindling. Taking the chance, you peer around to gain a better sense of boundaries. But there is nothing. Well, not specifically nothing ; just absolutely nothing familiar – trees, trees and more dense forest cast as far as your eyes can see off. You hadn’t paid well enough attention to how deep you’d run, and now was lost in a massive forest.

“Ahhh crimony.” you groan, ruffling your drenched hair and doing a complete circle gaze to the same scenery, plopping aggressively onto a raised root to curse under your breath. Some bodyguard – you were possibly putting him in more peril just being around. Hoping maybe the child has his likely tracked cellphone, your broken to realize it was left behind. Another stupid problem : your tracker slipped off with your sweater, so they had no way of finding you.

“Im sorry Frisk. I was so focused I didn’t…I have no idea where we are.” you admit, rubbing at your face with frustration as Frisk sits beside you, trying to comfort and soothe your anger. It takes a few minutes to pull yourself back into reasonable thinking, the rainfall constantly beating down through the dense foliage.

‘We are in the forest below the mountain. We need to head that way.’ Frisk directs, you taking the kids directional advice that is likely better then your own, heaving him up for a piggy-back ride, trudging cautiously but quickly through the muddy forest terrain.

“Im going to get you home little boss. Soon as I do, I’m hunting down those jerks who think they can mess with us. Sending ‘em all straight to the damn hospital.” you growl, stepping lightly as the world around begins to fade into darkness. As it settles, it becomes increasingly hard to see and you know you’re going to be so late delivering this kid. A thought occurs to you. You dig into your pocket, retrieving your multiverse cellphone.

“Quick, what’s Asgore or the houses number?” you ask Frisk, who quickly signs Asgores cellphone number as you punch it in, using the installed flashlight to assist with sight. The line picks up on the start of the second ring.

“ **WHERE IS FRISK!?** ” bellows the king, the scream loud enough to resonate an echo through the forest, instantly regretting leaving the speaker so close to your ear.

“There was a sl-“ you try to explain, but Asgore doesn’t back down.

“If **ANYTHING** has happened to him, I don’t care what happens to me, but I will see you in the **_GROUND._** I **_never_** should have trusted you!!” he barks, Frisk looking fearful of the foaming animosity coming from his father figure. You can hear background chatter, but Toriels cries and yells echo the hardest.

“A-Asgore chill f-“

“You are a **TRAITOR**. I **_genuinely_** was beginning to **_TRUST_** you, and this is what I get?! You- **YOU-** “ the speed and ferocity he is barking at you with is enough to make you assume he has gone feral. You turn to Frisk quickly and gesture to plug their ears, but that already are, burying their frightened face into your soaked mane. You take a commanding voice, echoing through the forest like a god.

“ **ASGORE!!** ” you howl, taking the sobbing silence that you got through to the idiot. That, or he hung up ; you still spoke.

“Frisk is **fine**. I REPEAT. Frisk is perfectly **fine**. Get that through your fuzzy crowned head and _breathe_.” you stress, Frisk making claps and other sounds to try and reassure the other line as well. A shaky moment passes before a weak submissive voice quakes through.

“Where is he.” he pleads, the sound alone making you think the poor royal is on his knees begging for his life. It pains you, but there isn’t much else to be done.

“Those guys that walloped me with a can yesterday night hit again. Except they tried to hit us with a car. Knocked me in the head with a bat, I heard a gun, and I just took off running. We are in the forest somewhere, I don’t have exact coordinates and I don’t know how long we have been out here. I’m bringing him home, my tracker got yanked off back where we were jumped. I think Frisks bag is at Muffets – we got some donuts before it happened.” you report, hiking up Frisk carefully from slipping off. Groans and sobs filter through as Frisk continues to clap and make varying sounds, likely how he converses over a phone call.

“C-Can you h-hand Frisk the phone?” he pleads again, choking a sob.

“He’s been able to hear everything you fuzzy lug. He’s clapping and making sounds the whole time, but the rain must be too strong. Frisk, you know how to whistle or something?” you suggest, Frisk whistling a little tune that has Asgore and Toriel weeping.

“W-When will you both get b-back?” he mutters, huffing silently to calm tears.

“I’m not sure how long it will take, but I swear to you he will come home……I’m……I’m going to bounce. Get out of your hair. After all that’s happened, I don’t blame you for wanting to rip my damn guts out. I-……I know when i’m not wanted.” you conclude, Frisk giving denying smacks at your shoulders as screams and confusion surge through the phone.

“N-N-No Rea, that’s not-“

“No it is. I have caused nothing but crud ever since I arrived, and for what? What do I even hope to accomplish?! I don’t even bloody know. I’ll drop off Frisk, beat the living hell out of those punks, pack my stuff, and disappear. My existence is a shadow; always shifting and moving, but easily breakable and ignored… I’ll put in a good report, that’ll get them off your backs. You can be happy! That’s good, so break out the wine or something fuzzball!” you force a smile and enthusiasm, though the situation is nothing but grim. You intercept anything they try to say.

“I’m hanging up now and focusing on not tripping on roots. Goodbye.” you finish, shutting off the phone and turning off the ringer and vibrations, abandoning it once again in your pocket. Frisk gives a light smack to the back of your head, gaining your attention as he signs.

‘Please don’t go! It’s only the first day and you have saved my dad and me! You’re doing a great job! Its not your fault, he will understand!’ Frisk argues, clear tears spilling onto his cheeks underneath his coat. A lightning strike smashes the rains silence, scaring both of you. Lightning definitely was one of your top fears, but having Frisk cowering on your back fills you with a strength indescribable as you pull them to the side. Planting their feet on the ground, you look at the innocent child who clings to you for comfort before crouching down with a genuine smile and glint of remembrance in your eyes.

“Frisk……remember when I told you I was a witch?” you recall, rubbing his shaking arms soothingly as the coverage in this area is the best, with only minor droplets breaking against the earth. Frisk gives a confused nod as you settle beside them.

“Well Frisk, that is really true. I am a witch. I know how you were having rough times in the underground, with Flowey and Chara? Sans and Mr. Goop? Killing and begging for forgiveness. That’s why I confronted you this morning, hoping you would open up to me. I can understand you well Frisk, but I want you to talk to someone about these fears, alright? Please – for me. Say something is better then a dark silence.“ you beg, Frisk giving a distressed look before sniffling and agreeing.

“Now Frisk, I’m going to show you my magic trick. It’s a secret one, and you have to pinky promise not to tell anyone. Not a soul – monster or human.” you tell, extending a pinky. He hesitates for a moment, but with a glint of fearlessness, he interlocks with your pinky and looks bewildered.

“Alright…watch this.” you soothe, concealing your face with your hair as your magic bursts in your eyes, hands glowing a dark purple ; almost black as you cup them together. Channeling your happiness into little balls of light, you free your grasp to let a vast array of lights float freely through the darkened forest. Frisk perks up immediately, trying to catch the lights like a bug. His eyes are filled with wonder, sheer amazement, as you take advantage of the weak moment. Slipping behind the child, you parallel your hands besides his head, reaching for his conscious.

“ _dormisue_ ” you whisper, slipping Frisk into a light sleep as you heft him up into your arms. Kids bedtime was coming soon and you didn’t want him catching a cold. Stepping into a tear, you scurry to an opening that’s already been made before the front door, quietly stepping through. Setting Frisk down against the door frame, you plant a farewell kiss on the cheek before rapidly knocking at the door and slipping back into the void, seaming the entrance.

With a clear overview of the city you scour in the pause of time, hunting the previous predators as pray. Locating the group is fairly easy, smoking and laughing outside a club, truck and everything. Jumping through a rift in an alley, you stroll behind the group, clearing your throat purposefully for an up close fight. All their dead gazes turn into utter shock, taking in your body. Ripped and bloody, a sleek magic radiating off you as you force flex your arms and fingers in anticipation, upholding your promise to Asgore ‘til the very end.

“Lets get this the fuck over with.” you spit, charging into a mess of knives, guns and bats with nothing but fists and crafty magic. The growing fever taking hold in your brain is fueled by the raging emotional fire while drenched with the downpour and freezing wind.

This was going to be a pain in the ass.

 ----------------------------------------------------

Frisk rouses from the light touch on the cheek, and is standing up as Toriel flings the door open enough to possibly unhinge. The motherly monsters fur is dewed with fresh and old tears, more welling into her eyes as she finally sights her lost child, briskly pulling them into a comforting embrace.

“Frisk! Oh my child, you are to _never_ scare us so! _Ever_ again!!” she weeps, carrying the child inside while holding the dazed kids head. She takes a glance around, not able to locate you, her soul wavering in a heavy manner but carries Frisk to the others nonetheless.

“Oh god Frisk!” Asgore follows, joining in the hug as he nuzzles his bearded cheek into the slightly damp hair. Frisk avoided the majority of the downpour thanks to the rain equipment, much to Toriels delight.

“FRISK!!” cries Papyrus, the rest of his dear monster friends gathering to share in the hug, after much complaining and confirmation, they let him breathe and remove his jacket.

“My child, what happened to you? Where’s-……where’s R-Rea? How did you get here so quickly?” Toriel begs, stroking his cheek as Sans prepares a cup of hot chocolate, everyone migrating to the kitchen. Frisks confused face led to the clock, reading back that it was only a few minutes after the phone call to Asgore. Returning to everyone, he begins to sign away.

‘I don’t know. We walked home but stopped to get donuts at Muffets. Then we left and these men in a truck tried to hit us. Rea was so cool – she did a barrel roll and we ran but someone hit her. These other guys got out of the truck with big guns, but Rea broke a guys nose and we took off running again! I don’t know how long we were running, but we ended up in the forest below Ebott. We were really lost, so we just started walking in a direction. Then we called……and everyone got really mad at her, but she was doing her job! She protected me, please don’t be mad at her dad, please!!’ he begs, tugging desperately at Asgores sleeve as he still processes the information. He gives a heavy sigh and strokes Frisks head, a pained smile poking at his beard.

“Im sorry you had to hear me yelling, Frisk. I couldn’t bear to think that I’d lost another child to a stranger I thought I could trust. I was……angry, too angry to consider anything else, and I took it out on her. She was doing her job, and it is my fault for judging quickly. I was…..I was horribly wrong.” he concedes, a reel of the hatred he used over the phone was but a pinch of what his seething frame quaked : his energy and magic were on the brink of boiling over.

 Papyrus and Undyne had tracked the tracking watch and Frisks backpack, gotten the information from Muffet and immediately called Asgore. Alphys was the last to make it home, directly into the fray of screaming and questions. Sans and Papyrus were listing possibilities, Toriel sob ranting about why he had to track you instead of just getting your phone number. Sans cant risk teleporting to find him, and the heavy rainfall has been given news alerts to stay off the streets. Asgore assumes the worst, and is on the verge of telling everyone the truth, but an unfamiliar caller rings his cell, and looking to it for answers, there lays a picture of you : the caller.

“BUT…BUT REA? IS SHE NOT COMING BACK? I THOUGHT THIS WAS HER NEW HOME!” Papyrus questions, Sans taking his brothers shoulder in silent consolation.

“Yeah! Where the heck is that idiot? What happened after the call?!” Undyne demands aggressively, Alphys stroking her hand to try and ease her fiery temper.

‘After we called she told me I needed to talk to you about things that have been bothering me for a while……I-I didn’t want to say anything about it before because nobody would understand but, she told me it was better to “say something rather than stay in dark silence”. I told her I would, and then…’ he recalls, trying to remember everything.

“no need to be bashful kiddo. we cant understand if you don’t **speak** up.” Sans nudges his shoulder, an encouraging grin of anticipation stretched eagerly across his face.

‘She showed me fireflies.’  he signs, a pleasant pursed smile spreads over his cheeks.

“F-Fireflies?” Alphys asks to which Frisk nods. “In t-this weather?”

‘It was her magic trick! She made fireflies! But she told me I wasn’t supposed to tell……am I going to lose my pinky?’ he asks, concern wriggling at the smile.

“No sweetheart. How did she make them?” Toriel questions, lovingly patting Frisks hand as he settles into her lap.

‘I told you, it was her magic trick! There was nothing and then they were everywhere!’ he enthuses, sprinkling his fingers around in a visualizing attempt. Everyone looks puzzled, Asgore pretending to be ignorant.

“So how did you get home?” He chimes, trying to pinch off the uncomfortable subject.

‘I don’t know. I saw the lights and the next thing I knew I was home.’ he finishes giving an unsure shrug.

“Well, do you know where that idiot went?” Undyne growls trying to contain her excited rage. Frisk gives a toothy smile, turning to Sans happily.

‘To go dunk those jerks.’ Frisk beams, Sans etching a proud grin into his features.

“I hope she is alright. Its getting late and this rain isn’t supposed to let up until tomorrow evening.” Toriel sighs, moving about to make a quick dinner ; so preoccupied with Frisks safety she hadn’t had a chance to cook.

“She’ll be fine.” Asgore soughs stepping from the kitchen to sit quietly in the living room. Everyone stands about, unsure of how to proceed, but Toriel pitches in suggesting spaghetti for dinner, Undyne and Papyrus having an immediate mood swing as they assist in the creation of the noodled dish often served. Alphys and Sans try to pry more minor details out of Frisks memory, eventually getting the license plate number on the truck and calling the police about the problem. They took it more seriously considering it was the Monster Ambassador whos life was just on the line, vowing to hunt them down.

After the call, Toriel and Undyne serve up spaghetti, a light-hearted wave of relief washing over the family as they ate and joked. However, Asgore does not share in this, shadowed with regret in the living room, contemplating exactly what to say upon your return to retrieve anything you had supposedly unpacked. Everyone pretends to ignore it, but his sullen mood drifts through the air contaminating the house.

“What are you freaking out about her for? You never behaved like this with any of the other guards.” Undyne steps in, handing the lonely king a plate of spaghetti. He tries to force a smile but it glared down into a form of submission.

“She’s _different_. I have my reasons for not trusting her and I don’t want to _burden_ and of you with this…… _fear_.” he admits while thankfully eating the spaghetti – Papyrus’ skills were improving.

“That’s what family and friends are for, right!? You don’t need to keep this locked up! Didn’t Frisk admit that he was going to tell us what was up? If the kid can handle it, so can you!” retaliates Undyne as she gives a confident smile at the unsure gaze he returns. “Don’t go chickening out! C’mon.” she offers a hand. With brief hesitation, he takes it and is led into the dining room where he is met with familiar happy faces. This secret wouldn’t last a day.

“E-Everyone, I have some…disturbing news to tell you all. I’m sorry I haven’t told you sooner, I presumed I was doing the right thing by keeping it secret but it has caused nothing but problems…” he confesses, settling his plate but not himself as he stands before the gathered and seated family. “It is about Rea.”

“heh of course it is. it was easy to see something was up with how you reacted around her.” Sans grumbles, knowing all along and awaiting this conversation.

“I agree. What is it, Asgore?” Toriel hums, coaxing a sense of relaxation through him.

“WAIT. DOES SHE WANT US KNOWING THIS? I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, DON’T WANT TO GO BEHIND HER BACK KNOWING THINGS I SHOULDN’T..” Papyrus booms as Undyne tries to shush to a more indoor voice.

“No. No she would have told you ; it was my idea to keep it a secret.” he corrects, calming the table before delivering the news.

“Rea is a direct ancestor of Ovine.” he states, waiting for the baffled shocks. Toriel stands and gasps clutching her face. Everyone else seems terribly confused, unaware to the name as they had not been born during the war.

“Tori – Tori shhh.” Asgore tries to soothe his trembling wife who cant help raising her voice.

“You let **_her_ care for FRISK**?!” she cries, suddenly aware of the mass danger Frisk could have experienced. Frisk is alarmed, trying to ask ‘whats wrong?’ as Asgore holds Toriel close, raking a shaky claw down her fur.

“uhh. kinda in the dark here. who is ovine?” Sans speaks up, the name alone sending Toriel into stressful weeps.

“PLEASE YOUR MAJESTY, DON’T CRY!! I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT THEIR ANCESTOR HAS DONE, BUT REA IS NOT BAD, RIGHT?” Papyrus glistens sending a positive smile that is slowly etched into a still frown as Asgore denies a reply while soothing the frightful queen. Frisk cant hold still any longer, scurrying into Toriels lap as she squeezes them close. Once Toriel calms with Frisk close to home, Asgore returns to the confessional.

“Ovine was one of the human mages back during the war. A sorrowed man how equaled his strength to mine in our day long battles.” he continues, the entire rest of the room finally uproaring in realization.

“W-W-W-WH-wha-what-t-t?!”

“WHATTHEFUCKASGOREWHATWHYDIDNT-“

“you…you cant be- _cant_ be serious…”

“T-THE MAGE FAMILY?!”

Everyones complaints and questions erupt at once, Asgore slamming the table to a instant silence, trembling at the trouble he has caused.

“Please. Let me finish.” he begs, gaining the intense attention of his friends before breathing steady.

“Ovine was the nicer of the mages, but also brimming with power. He could have bested me in the blink of an eye, yet he equaled to my own to test my strength, my desperation……what I was willing to risk. I fought that man for five days and nights straight. On the fifth day, he tried to reason with me : begging for peace, trying to conjure a treaty, desperate for an end to the endless death. As we all know, that didn’t happen : however, that man was the strongest, able solely to erect a similar barrier to the one we were trapped behind for all those decades…” he whispers as the pained anger flows through his form. He breathes again, calming himself.

“But he didn’t. He refused to assist in the sealing. Then, yesterday at the picnic, I met _her_.” he sighs, glancing to Sans who seems startled at the directed attention.

“She isn’t from this world Sans. Not from this…time. Apparently the mages have set-up a time interval in a space between a world and the void. She might appear as a young adult, but she is over 100.” he tells, Sans and Alphys both sharing a aghast glance, Sans’ skull threatening to pop.

“S-S-She c-c-can j-just…w-wander?” Alphys asks, trying to clarify this breaking news.

“Yes. She has refined the magic of her ancestors and was given the task to travel through different dimensions, universes, times, whatever. She resets seals – patching and renewing them…But also able to create any that were broken.” he murmurs.

“Are you saying she can just put us back Underground when she pleases?!!?” Undyne screams, slamming a fist to the table and wielding a spear suddenly.

“…………Yes.” he admits, rubbing his exhausted face, scrunched with unpleasant faces.

“Like _HELL_ she will!!”

“Undyne, its not a matter of whether you approve or not. She could take all of us on alone and probably come out victorious, seal us in, and go off on her merry way!” Asgore bites back, letting the reality of their situation plummet like a rock-slide.

“……So…So this is it? A-After everything?” Toriel whispers, scratching the stinging tears from her eyes.

“SHE-REA-…SHE WOULDN’T DO THAT TO US YOUR MAJESTY……SHE…She wouldn’t.” Papyrus defends, though he shares in the realizing horror that all their happiness could so easily be stripped away.

“She is on orders Papyrus : Watch over us and decide for herself……However, I…I have a spark of hope.” he admits, the entire table looking to him as if his brain just ran away.

“oh please. _do_ tell. from all you just admitted, it seems pretty **hope** ful.” Sans grunts, throwing his bony hands from his pocket into the air to emphasize a ‘we’re fucked’ attitude.

“She doesn’t _want_ to seal us away. She has apparently witnessed the memories of the past, agreeing with her ancestor that the humans are guilty. From what I know, they could have sent someone far less understanding and forgiving. The ‘council’ of mages is more in charge then she is, and the majority of them supposedly need to decide what is to be done with us. I was ensured that she had allies on the inside who would stop the decision, but she cannot promise anything. Until then, she took a knights oath to obey any command I gave.” he finishes as he rubs his neck that’s coiling with stress.

“What the hell is a knights oath to them?!” Undyne flails about ; unlike a fish and more as a drunken brute.

“If I didn’t trust her yesterday she offered her head, thus ceasing the preserved bloodline of her magic. That’s extremely important to humans, even more so mages : passing on ones abilities to the next generation.” he bites back, moving from despising to defending you.

“S-So w-w-what are w-we supposed t-to do?” Alphys questions, Sans agreeing. Frisk also peers towards the table of tension.

“Go about the normal days?” he suggests, Undyne scoffing at the kings stupidity.

“You’re _joking._ ”

“Afraid not. This is out of our reach. Fighting a skilled mage is out of the question for all of you, and even if we……even if we _killed_ her…there are more, less forgiving and equally as powerful mages who can also likely access the voids entirety. It would be foolish to attempt anything, so we are simply at her mercy………I’m sorry.” he drowns, finally sitting down and sighing at the load off his shoulders. Yet, everyone else is now equally hindered.

With a few minutes of silent deep thought, Undyne is the first to break it.

“Im going to bed. We can talk more about this in the morning, after five or seven cups of coffee. C’mon Alph.” she urges, Alphys agreeing immediately as she gives everyone a silent wave goodbye.

“I-I think it is best you get some rest too, Frisk.” Toriel caves, Frisk also not fighting in retaliation as Toriel carries him to sleep. Sans and Papyrus hang around with Asgore, waiting for assured silence before speaking up.

“asgore. do you need me to do anything?” Sans proposes. Asgore gives a heavy sigh, shielding his eyes from the light as he gazes at his palms.

“Not much can be done besides keeping an eye on her, but I know you’ve likely already been doing that.” he admits, a stifling chuckle as he predicts the truth. Sans doesn’t deny or agree, merely giving a shrug of the shoulders and standing up.

“got eye **sockets** everywhere after all. can up the surveillance if you need.”

“I WILL HELP WATCH REA!” Papyrus whispers as only Papyrus knows how : loudly with ending by saying ‘whisper’ as a whisper is meant to be said.

“i don’t want you getting involved paps.”

“ALL OF US ARE INVOLVED SANS. I TRUST REA ; SHE HAS BEEN NOTHING BUT NICE.” he retorts. Sans acknowledges that once Papyrus has set his mind to something he is set for life ; nothing he could say would sway his brothers judgement. Giving a sigh, a rubs his brothers skull affectionately.

“you’re too good for this world bro. noone knows what to do with all that cool kindness.” he compliments, admiration sparkles forming in Papyrus’ smaller set of sockets as he tears up slightly.

The peace is broken with a jingling of the doorknob. Everyone falls still, listening and waiting. Another jingle and the unlocking of the front door occurs before the three pile into the living room.

You just are closing the door as you face-plant onto the stairs, groaning quietly in response but remaining frozen. Your head feels on the verge of splitting open, a shocking freeze overtaking your sense as you shudder for a blanket. Wincing as you cuddle your arms inwards, you take in the mass of bruises and small cuts left behind from the brawl. Victorious nonetheless, you barely dodged bullets. The tapping of foot steps approaching urge you to make an effort to try and not look dead on the stairs, but your limbs are numbed thoroughly.

“Rea?” comes a familiar fatherly groan, as you merely lift a hand to wave a feeble hello.

“OH GRACIOUS! REA, ARE YOU OUT OF MAGIC? ARE YOU ILL? SHALL I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HEAL YOUR WOUNDS, OR ARE YOU SKILLED IN THAT TOO?!” Papyrus beams, shocking you from the numbness as you give a hazy glare at Asgore. Your face feels as though it’d been dipped in lava, and it must be as red as a lobster as Asgore merely stares back, offering a paw.

“You look wretched.” he compliments, you accepting the gesture and steadying to lean against the wall.

“C-C-Coul-ldn-n’t h-hold a s-sec-c-cret-t f-foorr-r-r o-one d-daaay?” you stutter, teeth chattering violently as you shove the frozen fingertips in your underarms for any resuscitation.

“heh smalls. you’re lookin’ very **chilled to the bone**.” Sans humors, Papyrus giving him nothing but a disapproving glance as he starts to rubs your arms with blessed gloves. Oh it was phenomenal in comparison to rain.

“ **I-ce** -e-e w-what-t-t-t y-youuuu d-di-did t-ther-re.” you force a wink, sneezing into your arm harshly and nearly fall forward. Luckily, Papyrus picks your shaking form up bridal style, hugging you close. Even the metal of his armored shell is pleasantly warm to your frigid skin.

“SHE FEELS SO COLD YOUR MAJESTY.” Papyrus distresses, trying to shower you in more warmth as he rubs friction with his gloves.

“I would imagine so. What the blazes were you thinking going out in a tank-top, through freezing rain, for who knows how long?” Asgore retaliates, waving frustrated hands into the air as he heads for the care closet. “Im sorry Papyrus but can you bring her to bedroom? Here’s the key – its on the third floor.” he directs, Papyrus carefully whisking you away while Sans prioritizes the keys. Reaching the top of the stairs, Sans opens the door, taking in the suddenly spotless and furnished room.

“you, uh, work fast.” he whistles, looking at the clean simple yet intricate room layout. He finds a bookcase filled with history and empty notebooks, but picks out one labelled “Runs 1-100” and slips it into his jacket as Papyrus seats you on the bed. Asgore comes up with multiple towels, tightly bundling your hair into one and rapidly gyrating the others over your skin and clothes. A gasp from Papyrus scares both of them as he inspects your shivering hands.

“REA! YOUR FINGERS HAVE TURNED INTO LITTLE PRUNES!!” he shrieks, carefully examining each finger as Asgore groans and tries to silence Papyrus’ loud mouth from waking the entire house.

“T-That ha-happens when-n we s-stick in w-water to-oo lo-n-ng.” you mutter, sneezing again as Asgore jams a thermometer in under your tongue.

“Hold it.” he commands, and you comply weakly, head starting to spin. A confirming beep resonates and Asgore sighs to himself.

“102.3. How bad is that? Frisk had a fever once but his was lower and he’s a child. Are adults affected differently? I wasn’t even aware magic imbued humans could get sick… ” He tangents his thoughts out loud. You take and glance over the thermometer, coughing into your elbow to the obvious concern

“1-102? I-I can d-deal-l w-with t-t-that a-l-lone. 104-4 i-is bad-d-d.” you instruct, ruffling the towels in your hair to dry your solid ice scalp.

“Need anything?”

“U-Um…f-fever reduc-cer medi-c-cine a-and orang-ge juice.” you kindly list, Asgore giving a firm pat on the shoulder before whisking away to fetch the items. You gaze at his gone figure baffled, before turning to Sans.

“A-Any r-rea-son you-ou’re all be-being so n-n-nice to meee?” you slur, sniffling as Sans pulls a packet of tissues from his pocket, offering them to you as you humbly accept.

“what, think because of what your ancestors did, we’d give you the **cold shoulder**? **water** you talking about? **freeze** that thought. cant we just be **thaw** tful?” Sans jokes, Papyrus grating his teeth aggressively to the humor onslaught. Asgore walks in with a pill bottle and a glass of orange juice on the final joke, you immediately turning to his gaze with a fueled heart.

“If I h-have to seal you all away, h-he’s going first.” you mutter, Sans and Papyrus taking you completely serious, Papyrus flying from the bedside to cradle his brother close. The once cheerful and excited Papyrus looked to you with unease, shielding his brother who’s sockets were hollow and smile plastic. Asgore grumbles, handing the orange juice and two pills over, you graciously taking the medicine immediately.

“That’s rude. Don’t joke about that.” he demands, talking a authorizing voice with you like scolding a child.

“Okay. Sorry………so what’s the plan now?” you grumble sipping lightly at the orange juice.

“Nothing. Same plan as before, just everyone knows now. I still forbid magic use in this house, or with anyone around. I’m also going to need your cell number.” he instructs as you sleepily set down the O.J, listing the number back as he writes it down and you plummet your face into the pillow. Sans sends Papyrus to his room, sticking behind with Asgore.

“Well, if that’s all, and i’m still stuck here, can I please sleep? Or change my clothes – in privacy?” you mumble, Asgore and Sans taking the hint and heading to the door.

“Alright…im sorry about the phone. If you need anything, I’m downstairs.” He finishes, him and Sans giving a final glance before leaving, shutting the door behind. You stumble groggily over to the dresser, grabbing clothing and just focusing on making it back to bed without planting your face to the hardwood  again. Accepting the gravitational pull once at the bed, you slide free from the damp apparel, throwing off in wild abandon to slip into the new dry set before curling up under the blankets, pocket tissues held close.

This was now your life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Flu!  
> Whats going to happen now that words out =^=?
> 
> Leave comments plz. They make me strong <3


	5. Time to Learn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving on with that supposed new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy hell I'm so sorry this took nearly 2 weeks to update O_O" Sorry, sorry~  
> Atleast its a long chapter. 
> 
> I'm trying to pick a preferred route of action for this fic, Sorry.  
> ......im just really sorry T_T"

Your brain is trying to explode from your head, body stuck sweating profusely underneath heavy bed covers as a hoarse cough runs through you. The inner throat is clogging with mucus, breathing haggard and heavy trying to relieve the intense heat coursing through your being. Limbs numb yet trembling, shuffling beneath the covers for proper positioning. Eyelids are heavy with morning fatigue and sinus retaliation that has furrowed your brow. They wince open as a light cold wash cloth is placed over your head, gently pressed and wiping away the sweat. Fur bristles against your heated skin as your gaze meets white and purple, familiar amethyst eyes peering down at you with fear and slight regret. They take notice of your awareness.

“Child, how are you faring? Would you like a drink?” Toriel whispers, running a separate cloth down your skin to remove the profuse sweating. It isn’t as cold as the one laid upon your forehead but is blessed in comparison. You give a pitiful nod as she brings close a cup, tilting your body forward to ease the waters passage and not drown. To the side is a clear cup of tea, the steam emanating off giving a familiar waft of honey. She settles you back down against the pillows before resuming cleaning your arms and neck.

“Do you need anything else child? Soup or blankets? I can fetch more medicine.” she offers. In the harsh effort to speak a rough cough shakes your being, splitting your forehead open as you instinctually bring up your elbow to not spread your infection. Toriel has pulled over a tissue box and offers one as you attempt to remove the accumulating mucus from your passages. Nothing. In effort to not waste, you blow your nose lightly a few times before discarding the disgusting kleenex into a trash can, wary of Toriel.

“M-Meds…a-and soup… pl-e-ease?” you ask. Toriel gives your shoulder a reassuring pat before rushing away to fetch the items. Gods strike you at your pitiful predicament. Sick with a blasted flu, trapped in bed being cared for by supposed royalty. Royalty that held a grudge against your kin – and you. _You_ feared as the Reaper, Roamer of worlds, had now been reduced to a sick adult incapable of movement and magic. Quick but heavy footsteps approached as Toriel came back in balancing a tray of goodies : soup, scones and biscuits, medicine, and more orange juice and ice water. Pulling over a chair she sets the tray on a stool before popping open the pill bottle. You don’t hesitate in swallowing it down with the frigid water. With a concentrative force, you idle upwards to a more permanent sitting up position despite Toriels opposition. Sticking a thermometer into your mouth you both wait in awkward silence.

“I……I am sorry about what I said or may think of you. I-I truly _believe_ Asgore when he said you meant us no harm, but……human mages…have haunted monsters with their outstanding power, the rumors that spread between us only made things worse. I had thought no mages could show any form of kindness ; that you were all wicked and… _heartless_.” she bites, disappointment in herself ringing clear in her voice. Her disgust with your kind wasn’t unwarranted or rumored ; the majority of the mages you knew were assholes through and through – destructive power that they played with. The thermometer beeps a moment later. Taking a quick glance before she pulls it free – 101.8 . Ha! Suck that fever! Toriel shares in slight delight at the reduction before placing the soupy chowder in your hands. There are noodles and extremely tiny chunks of broccoli floating within as you take a wary sip – not being one for soup eating. It warms your mouth, not enough to burn but enough to cause a slight sweat to begin breaking out. Its bland in consideration for your stomach but the taste isn’t peculiar as you had believed and you sigh freely in relief.

“However, Frisk told me of everything you did for them ; how kind you were…” Toriel continues, idly grabbing and munching on a scone for herself. “How you protected Kid from those awful bullies, how you both had fun at Muffets, your ‘amazing action ready coolness’ ?” She asks, arching an eyebrow as you nearly choke on a bit of broccoli.

“I-Is that what he’s calling it?” you hoarsely question, your throat clearer but still gradient.

“He seems set on thinking up something else for it, so currently? Yes……he…he had nothing but praise and adoration for your efforts against those _terrible_ humans. Protecting him from them, protection from that terrible rainstorm…yet all I was thinking of was how you had lied and thrown our child into mortal danger. Its inexcusable and I am grateful you brought him home and sorry I misjudged your intentions.” she grieves, trembling hands cupping together tightly to try and restrain from letting her emotions heighten. Reading her mood, you set down the bowl and place a sweaty palm over her hands.

“Toriel? You’re a great mother-er figure for F-Frisk. I don’t understand-d the relations, and I w-won’t pry. It _is_ t-true that what I did was in m-my thoughts the b-est course of action ; rushing him into the woods to avoid t-the confron-tation. However, t-there were more ways around i-it, it could-d have been avoi-oided if I’d been paying-g c-c-closer attention. It could have b-been avoided if I’d been a r-responsible adult a-and brought Frisk di-directly home. It could have been avoided if I had listeeened to Sans and ignored that low-rider w-when I first dropped by. Those m-men were after me, not F-Frisk. If I had just-……been more _aware_ , more resistant, just… _stronger_. If I had been, none of this would h-have had to happen. No……if I hadn’t _shown up_ , none of this would have happened…” you admit, feeling sick with yourself. Instead of helping these monsters with the anti-monster humans, you were drawing attention and putting them in worse danger.

Everything has been **_your_** fault.

And Toriel doesn’t mutter a word in defiance, instead cupping your hand between hers as they continue to tremble.

“Sometimes things need to get worse to get any better. We cannot be certain that if you hadn’t shown up things would be worse or better……but I want to believe its for the better, if that quells any worries in your mind. It is true – I don’t give you my full trust. That is my fault for judging a book by its cover, listening to rumors and stories over facts and life experiences ; I wasn’t directly involved in the war. You haven’t betrayed us and gave Asgore your word – that for now is good enough for me.” she resigns, patting your head with a wary smile before standing up and proceeding to the door.

“Having you here can change everyones outlooks on human mages – let you _prove_ yourself through words and actions. Besides, you being here seems to……. _affect_ Frisk. In a good way.” she finishes, before giving a little wave and closing your door. Affecting Frisk? Thinking on the matter merely increases the sinus headache aching through your skin and skull. Resigning from your brain, you finish the soup, carefully dunking and biting into a biscuit. You’re pleased with the efforts and the possible healing effects caused by monster food could be working, or the medicine, as the intense pulsing ache through your frame eases into a numbed state.

Sleep takes you easily as the next time you awaken the sun is already setting on the edge of your window, the orange red light seeping past the curtains as it rests directly over your eyes. Fluttering them open and reclining to face the wall, you rub profusely to try and jar yourself awake. Prepared and blocking your eyes with a hand, you sit up in bed with an intense headache, looking to the stool beside you. More soup had been prepared, covered, and insolated to stay toasty warm along with a renewal of med’s and beverages. A thermometer laid at the edge as you stuck it in your mouth, internal prayers that maybe everything would be over thanks to healing nutrients supplied in monster-made dishes. 101 exactly. Pleased with the decline you stand and steady yourself while using the bed-frame to stay up. With a groggy rush over your head and heavy eyes you cautiously meander to the bathroom.

Pink impressions are stained everywhere but settling in the restroom gives you a chance to clean your sweaty body and clothes. Showering seeming unsafe in your dazed condition, you opt to running a soaped wash cloth over your skin to remove the sweat and grime layer. It is blissful and pleasant as you return to rummage about your drawers for adequate outdoor clothing. You find a t-shirt and plaid jacket along with ripped jeans, slipping them on and shutting the curtains before settling on you bed to knead your hands into the growing headache. Eating the soup this time around is easier and the biscuits help with filling the lone space in your stomach before you relax back, no longer okay with lying in the sweat drenched bed. Staying in bed and getting better wasn’t what you did. Shrugging on the jacket, you slowly make your way downstairs.

Coming downstairs was a mistake. Everyone is listening over the news as they munch on dinner, gathered in the large living room as everyone is focused on the news. Its reporting an anonymous threat from the anti-monster gang that had just ended as you came within hearing distance.

“Government officials and law enforcement are taking necessary steps to capturing the followers and officiates to the anti-monster gang claiming under the affiliation ‘Black Hearts’ ; Samuel, how do you see this news? Beneficial or Detrimental?” “…..Well Anne I-I have to admit, I agree completely that these ‘monsters’ or ‘magicals’ suddenly being thrust into _our_ world openly is against my beliefs on the matter, and that they shouldn’t remain among us or atleast in not heavily populated areas until more terms and agreements can be placed. However - I don’t agree with their method of removing them. It has escalated from senseless bullying to actual crimes against a rather docile…species? They seem rarely hostile and haven’t been the real initiators, thus seem unworthy of these offensives.“

“Surprised they even _bothered_ to get news-cast who had neutral outlooks…” Undyne spits as Papyrus quickly shushes her. Alphys lays a reassuring claw on her shoulder which seems to drive a bit of the tension out of Undyne.

“It’s a step in a direction. What the direction may be is still not clear.” Asgore agrees as Frisk huddles closer to his lap, picking at his meal.

“Its true that the monsters may not be the initiators, but they surely have found a bodyguard for their child ambassador! Yesterday evening there was light coverage and video of the child ambassador being targeted by these ‘Black Hearts’ during that terrible rainstorm. A truck plowed at the little kid during a natural crossing and was thankfully saved by a passerby, ducking the child to safety and fleeing to the mountains. Police reported the childs safety was ensured and has been promptly sent home, but this mysterious woman hasn’t stepped forth for her brave actions to the media. A more recent video taken displays this same woman later that night attacking the attackers!” the news woman exclaims, excitement clear on her face as a static video likely taken from a phone shows you creeping to the gang before your ultimate turf war is displayed over the news. The guy holding the phone keeps cursing as his words are mostly blurred or talked over with action dialogue supplied by the news, but Frisk is bouncing on the couch, signing quickly.

“I HAD NO IDEA HUMANS WERE SO NIMBLE!!” Papyrus cries as he watches in amazement, you seemingly dodging an array of clubs, knives and bullets.

“She is damn lucky is what! Bet she cheated and went against her ‘I wont use magic nah nah’ vow.” Undyne grumbles. She clearly went from thinking you would be good friends to detesting your existence. You cant blame her – supposedly the reason for the Royal Guard was to capture humans and protect their people ; likely from the mages or anyone who meant them harm ( like the mages… ).

“I’d rather her use magic in a non-lethal fight for emergencies only, but she isn’t using spells or anything dangerous or materializing.” Asgore defends as Toriel hugs Frisk close upon seeing the capabilities of this ‘Black Heart’ gang. Undyne huffs back in retaliation, settling slightly as Alphys soothes her.

“Hu-human m-mages can b-be s-scary-y.” Alphys admits, Undyne hugging her close.

“Don’t worry babe! I won’t let anything happen to you! To any of you.” she states, glancing to her dear friends and loved ones. Is this what it feels like to be the villain? Hell, you were always the villain, Undyne in the eyes of her people the heroine in shining armor who would sacrifice it all. The relay video finally cuts off, returning to the newscast.

“Theories point to this woman being a relative to the ambassador, others say she is a kind samaritan helping prove thhat monsters aren’t alone in this fight. However she has earned a third label : traitor.” the lady giggles openly, the rest of the cast besides her co-anchor looking to her like she has gone insane.

“Oh no.” Toriel sighs, trying to plug Frisks ears but he retaliates. Everyone seems to know what’s coming as you listen intently. The co-anchor chimes in.

“This girl just arrives out of nowhere, no name or face, and begins fighting back against this gang. And they only do this _now_? If they were truly so against it, why hesitate to speak out? Its my personal belief this ‘defender of monsters’ is nothing more then hired help or promised media coverage – and look ; she is getting it.” he purrs with a shrewd face. The woman beside him just continues to nod in false agreement. This was pissing you off. Media coverage? Personally paid? You choose who you choose to protect, what right do _they_ have to judge you so quickly after two little reports?

“The simple fact of the matter is she prefers the company of monsters to her own kind. She would attack, hospitalize and even _kill_ her own! She is a traitor to her people, her world, and her god.” he barks. You can’t keep down about this anymore – religious bastard.

“ _Excuse me?!_ ” you shriek, everyone instantly whirling around to see you standing in the archway. You don’t care, you’re intently glaring at the tv. “ My _people?!_ _You_ scumbags were NEVER my people! Sure, I will hospitalize people who fight me openly, but _WHAT_ right do you have to call ME a _TRAITOR?!_ I NEVER BELONGED TO YOU!! I DON’T BELONG TO **_ANYONE!!_ SO!** _TAKE_ your _beliefs_ and whatever _GOD_ you think I _suffer_ under and- _and-_ “ Papyrus and Frisk. No swearing. Nope. Nuh-uh. FUUUUU-“- _piskol fore iscuwal se yeros kijun !!”_ you curse in forbidden tongue, storming out of the room and throwing open the back door before pacing by the fence, ruffling your hair in aggravation. Dropping into a crossed leg stance on the cold dirt, you craft a thin barrier to punch aggressively as you continue to mumble unknown curses. You keep at this for a solid ten minutes – or longer. Whenever Asgore decides to waddle out and check in on you.

“Rea.” he starts.

“ _what?_ ” you hiss in return. You should stop, but you’re still fuming as you refuse to even glance at the kind king.

“What did you mean by that? That the humans were never your people?” he states, pulling a lawnchair over to have a little chat.

“Exactly what I said.” you grunt, crumpling in on yourself.

“But you are a _human_ mage…” he reminds as you huff a sigh, trying to fizzle your temper.

“So just because something has the word _human_ in it, it automatically relates to humanity? This fearful humanity where everyone cowers in fear but deals with it differently, whether its hiding away or fighting back? This disgusting humanity that pillars harmful smoke and chemicals into the earth, disregarding of its future? This stupid humanity that thinks one section of earth is better then the other, thus they fight and kill and destroy to eventually conquer or halt everything with mindless treaties?! Until the monsters came to the surface, humans have been making mistake after mistake between their _own_! These idiots were _never_ my people…” you huff out, clinging to your legs tightly. Though the headache has calmed down, your sweating has picked up again. Asgore scooches closer.

“But isn’t that your job? Going through time and worlds / universes and fixing barriers?... _Protecting_ the humans from imminent disasters?” he points out as you finally look to him. His expression is curious though he has that deep knowing smile.

“Heh. Look where that’s gotten me. I never belonged with the humans. I’m a freak, a monster among. In my world I was capable of magic at a very young time. I didn’t have control over it and couldn’t hide my eyes. My parents were ashamed of my existence and tried to keep me locked away – I had been born to non-magically aware humans that questioned my magic blood, thanks to secret blood/DNA injections. My parents shunned me, anyone outside shunned me, and when I accidently let my emotions get the better of me? My magic popped. It was...the _worst_ feeling and...and a tragedy." you mumble, trying to move past your past,  " _E_ _veryone_ knew – out in the open. They tried to burn me. _BURN me_ for ‘witchcraft’. That’s when the mages took me in……they were my people from that day forth, _never_ these _humans_.” you vex, feeling at your constantly covered legs. The marks may fade, the hair may never grow in, but the scarred memories remain. Asgore takes note of your behavior and moves ever closer, close enough to settle a heavy paw on your shoulder in a sense of understanding.

“With great power comes great responsibilities. Someone so young exposed to such extreme powers cannot be expected to follow through perfectly, to lead a normal life……like Frisk.” he sighs instantly as he meshes his beard with his other paw in slight irritation.

“What is this about Frisk? Toriel mentioned something earlier that I had affected him?”

“Well…me and Tor- Toriel both believe that Frisk……he may be a mage.” he confesses as you instantly react.

“What?! How are you- what!!?”

“When he came through the underground he had amazing powers, the ability to speak to souls directly even with his lack of actual voice. He………he used six other human souls we had collected and shattered the barrier. A strong, determined, sweet child such as him? You would never guess it…but we have seen what he is capable of in the underground, and with him being directly aware of others souls its-“ Asgore tries to explain but becomes twisted in self thought. Human children born not directly from mage blood yet resulting in a higher magical awareness then others was rare, but not impossible. Usually with a specific pairing of people with the slightest magical history have a chance, but it wasn’t common as magic history ran thinner with each generation. Magicals were often considered crazy or never knew they had different potential then those around them.

“With everything you have explained : your parents abandoning, your powers at a young age, and with everything Frisk seems capable of, there is a chance.” he admits, though there is no pride in the matter for him. His child being the one thing they all fear.

“Where are his parents?”

“Gone, or just not speaking out. He won’t say anything of where he came from or how he reached the underground. His past is…a touchy subject.” Asgore and you share a strained sigh as you plot your next move on the matter.

“So…you want me to see if he is or not?” you shorten as Asgore gives a hesitant nod. “Alright. And if he _is_?” you question as Asgore takes this as a moment to think on it more.

“I can teach him – train him. Human mages magic works different then monster magic. There’s more physicality to it then just soul power.” you try to explain as Asgore thinks further on the matter. Sighing, he stands and turns away.

“That would probably be best…if he is though, you are never to put him in any danger.” he warns.

“Of course not. Alright, when you’re ready send him out.” you suggest, settling into a meditative state to channel energy.

“Now?” he questions in light sadness as you give a firm nod.

“Easier to see wisps of magic in the darkness. Of course, he could be a shadow mage but…….lets not delve into that possibility, shall we?” you say as you avoid _that_ awkward conversation. Shadow mages were banned dark mages. Evil among evil. Darker in the darkness. Asgore accepts the terms and wanders back inside as you continue to channel your flow. A few minutes later, the backdoor reopens as Frisk comes out alone. A few monsters are silhouetted in the windows, over-watching the coming exchange. Frisk comes to stand in front of you.

“Hey Frisk. Did they tell you anything about why you’re out here?” you start off, offering to sit beside you as he carefully sits and copies your cross-legged meditation stance.

‘Dad said it was about magic.’ he gestures with his hands.

“And he _also_ told me that you could speak directly to a soul? Can you do that with me? I would like this to remain quiet.” you whisper. You need answers from this kid and with how private he seems about handing them out, soul chatter seemed the easiest way. But he was unsure, bashfully hiding away. Sighing, you concentrate in on his little souls wavelength and connecting it to your own.

“ _Frisk_ ” you resonate, Frisk jumping a little in surprise before smiling wide.

“ _I didn’t know you could do it too!_ ” he squeaks. His voice is adorable, pure and innocent, a little high pitched for a boy his age but you drive that from your mind.

“ _Of course I can Frisk. What type of witch would I be without soul telepathy?_ ” you reply, settling both hands on your waist in defiance as he giggles. Time to be brute blunt.

“ _Frisk – I need you to tell me what your situation was_ before _Ebott._ ” you ask as Frisk tries to glance away. “ _Is it okay if I make predictions and you just nod or shake your head?_ ” you insist. He seems adamant to answer anything with actual words so you can take guesses. He agrees.

“ _Alright. Prediction One : Your parents didn’t like you._ ” you start out, startling the child. He nods nevertheless.

“ _Was it because they knew you had magic?_ ” A shake. “ _Was it because you didn’t speak?_ ” A nod. You clench up internally at the thought of parents rejecting a child merely on the fact he didn’t have his own voice. “ _Did they know you could do things that could be considered magical?_ ” he replies with a shake. So he wasn’t sentenced away for what he was capable of…

“ _Was hearing peoples souls the only thing you could do Frisk?_ ” A nod that turns into a shake. A complication. “ _You can do more then read souls?_ ” you jab at, and he gives a nod. “ _It’s safe to assume that you don’t plan to tell me what that is, do you?_ ” Immediate nod. This kid had more secrets then a ten key-locked endless chest. “ _Does anyone else know about this other potential you have?_ ” you pry, and he gives a much sadder nod. He starts to tear up even, but you press onwards. “ _Would they tell me if I asked them about it?_ ” Immediate shake. Back to square one? He begins to sniffle as you shrug off your coat and offer it to him. “ _I’m sorry to ask you so many things your sensitive about Frisk, but I can’t help you unless I know what I’m dealing with. Can you understand I need to know more about you?_ ” You try to explain. He nods in agreement, if be it a sad nod.

“ _Alright Frisk. Now, why did you go to Ebott……did you leave because of your parents being mean?_ ” A nod. “ _Was that the_ only _reason?_ ” A shake. Oh boy, questionnaire. “ _Was it because of school kids?_ ” Nod. “ _Did you know that monsters were down there?_ ” He gives a so-so gesture with his hand. “ _Rumors?_ ” He nods. Before you can think up the next question, he speaks out.

“ _I heard that people who went up Ebott never came back._ ” he states in a dark tone. Looking at the child, he is trembling and sniffling, but outside is 65 degrees. Only after a moment do you see the little tears plopping onto your jacket that you put together his sentence. He had planned to leave this world.

“Oh Frisk sweetie.” you mumble out loud before sweeping the child into your arms and cuddling them close, brushing their hair as they clutch your tee and soak it with tears. You will need to tell Toriel to give him medicine and a thorough scrubbing so he won’t catch your sickness, but right now he _needs_ this reassurance. Asgore opens the backdoor, hesitant about whether to come over or not.

“Is he alright?” he asks, finally stepping out into the night towards you both huddled together.

“I hit a sensitive subject. My fault entirely.” you take the blame, rocking Frisk in your lap as he continues to sniffle.

“Do you need anything Frisk?” he asks, urging closer to try and help his distraught child.

“ _I-I would like to go see mom and dad…m-maybe get t-tea._ ” he politely begs to you, unclasping his tiny grip to wipe his tears.

“That’s fine Frisk. Go on. He wants some time with you two and tea. Do you want this to end for tonight?” you ask as he shakes before carefully standing up. “Alrighty, go ahead.” you nudge him as he instantly flies into Asgores clutches and is lifted into a fuzzy embrace. “Asgore, I hate to ask but could you make two cups of that golden flower tea for whenever he is ready to come back out?” you urge as he gives a faint smile before pulling the child indoors. Returning to a meditative state you can’t help but sigh as screams and groans emit from indoors. Toriels fretting along with Undynes screams of retaliation are clear, along with Papyrus groaning ( likely at Sans’ jokes ). Alphys remains silent but that’s probably just Alphys being the silent type. 20 minutes pass as Frisk reopens the door with a little tray and a wide smile on his face as he nearly runs back out to see you. Toriel could have given him rug-burn with all the kiss marks he had planted over his face, yet he was happier then the cat who caught the canary. Setting the tray between you Frisk copies your position and readies his face into a serious stare.

“ _Feel better?_ ” you ask as he gives a cheerful nod. “ _Frisk, from your past I can tell you’re one to seek friendship, to seek resolve ; you have more of a positive outlook on things when not many positives are around. But, you are aware of the darkness contained in this world, how imperfect and idealized it is to some. In short, you can see the flaws but still have a positive mindset. Your new friends and family are likely the cause and cure of that, yeah?_ ” you admit, as Frisk excitedly nods thinking about the friends he has made, the family he has found, and the love he has shared.

“ _In my opinion, you are most certainly a positive mage, should you have the control. And that’s what we are going to test now._ ” You admit, finally getting to the good stuff. Frisk looks nervous but determined as you turn to face him, straightening yourself out. “ _Drink up little buddy. This tea has high magical healing properties and can invigorate base magic along with internal cells._ ” You explain. The dumbfounded face obviously returned means make this sound simpler. “ _It makes it easier to feel your magic._ ” you retry as he understands better, taking careful sips with you to not overstimulate the flow and to not burn the tongue. Both are important. Finishing the cups, you place them back down and get to the good business. Making a fist with one hand and a cupping motion with the other, you rest the cup over the fist and gesture to Frisk.

“ _Do you understand what this means at all?_ ” you question out as he looks it over before giving a quizzical shake of denial. “ _This is a sign or respect between human mages. The fist-“_ you gesture, pulling away the fist and beating it against your heart, “ _is a symbol of the physical life we bear. Humans are physical beings with strength, will, and perseverance. The space-“_ you change the fist into a cup motion and bring it to the middle of your upper chest, “ _Is a symbol of the magical life. Magicals aren’t made of the same physicality as humans, they are more spacious, free, and relaxed. Human mages are those capable of reaching both and combing them together to make-“_

“ _Space fist!!”_ he exclaims suddenly, placing the two together and looking very proud. A sputter of laughter comes through as you cough into your hand trying to contain yourself. That. Was. Genius. You’re thoroughly ashamed of yourself for not thinking of such an amazing nickname for it when you’d been taught this. Reorganizing yourself, you return to your thoughts.

“ _Space fist is one way of looking at it. Others usually call it ‘The Meeting’. It is taking the peaceful nature of magicals to relax the ever hardened fist of physicality. Its also a way to pay respect to another mage, followed by a little bow… I think the closest in between of the meeting in the monster world is Undyne._ ” you tattle, Frisk laughing at the thought. It was a true fact – Undynes magical potential was clear based on her ranking in the underground and her physical strength was tested against you. Unfortunately, with her strengths came weaknesses ; along the lines of thinking things through. Undyne was brash, seemed ready to do anything involving fighting, and would be incapable of finding a solid in between without intense concentration that she didn’t seem capable of doing. Maybe in the future you would test this theory, but for now, Frisk. Returning to him you breathe in and out with ease as you face the same direction as him.

“ _The first step to channeling the meeting is to accept both as a part of your being, let them collide harmlessly. Let them coexist._ ” you urge. Frisk copies you, concentrating and breathing easily. Waiting patiently you can almost feel the click as he brings together his two life sources. He looks to you with a twinkle in his eyes – he felt it.

Frisk truly was capable of becoming a human mage…but what would that mean? Would the council……you drive the thought from your mind, moving on.

“ _Alrighty kiddo, now-“_ you align yourself to easier view as you circle your hands about your stomach “ _Once you can form ‘The Meeting’ a magic channel opens within you. Similar to the forming of the meeting, there are two pouches of energies that can funnel into one with enough training. Luckily for you, little boss, **I** am a master of all three.”_ you boast, and with reason. The majority of the mages stuck to either favoring their physical life force or their magical life force. Forge and Zebbulon focused more on the physicals while Baysoph and Mirage were more magical. You were considered a ‘masterpiece’ for a reason – your life forces coexisted without any concentration. Concentrating on strengthening the bond could prove…… _devastating_ to simply state.

“ _That’s so neat!_ _What kind of magic do you use?!_ ” he asks eagerly.

“ _Well Frisk I don’t have a preference – I can manipulate time and space, friction and force, my internal magic flow and barriers, and the elements so……everything?_ _The world, the earth? It is the core of my magic_.” You simplify. His usually tiny eyes are reaching the size of plates, glistening with amazement. With great power…came great responsibility……and _incredible_ self-control.

“ _What kind of magic can **I** use?!_ ” he is bouncing as you try to ease his excitement.

“ _Take it easy, little boss! Got to keep up that diligent concentration._ ” Under your words Frisk takes a very serious stance as you back up to give a broader explanation. A hands-on explanation. Taking both hands you flatten them evenly, pressing together your fingers and forming tiny circles in the air, flowing a magical wavelength through your skin into your palms and fingers.

“ _The easiest to learn tends to be Usemia, or ‘Serenity’. It is more magical based and thusly strives off of love, life, and pleasant thoughts and feelings. You need to be relaxed and certain when using it, understanding and ‘going with the flow’. It is the easiest to learn because alls you need to know is you must let it flow through you and have a positive feeling. Think of it like breathing! You’re sucking in air, letting it curdle inside your lungs, expanding slightly, and imagine hissing it out evenly. Does that make sense?_ ” you ask as Frisk gives a nod. His face reads he didn’t get that at all, but you press onto the next energy source. Cracking your fingers and tightening your elbows, you allow your energy to distort and retaliate. Frisk takes concern immediately for your more rigid movements.

“ _This is Eskaria, or ‘Venom’. It is more physical based and feeds off animosity, anger, and unpleasant thoughts and feelings. To use it is also simple yet complex ; it is like evil electricity pinching within, demanding release. While ‘Serenity’ is more of a water, the counter is ‘Venom’ as it conducts it. It is easier to learn…with those who despise the world or are very easily angered……like me._ ” you admit to the childs amazement and concern. You blew up over the media’s perspective. It’s the first news you’d heard and you let it affect you to the point the roof could have been ripped clean off the house. How they ever let you live is beyond your understanding. Casting aside your doubts you cease the erratic magic, breathing easier now that it isn’t riling you up. You give it a moment before moving on to the final pool.

“ _Remember how we made ‘Space Fist’?_ ” you joke as Frisk perks up to the _amazing_ nickname. “ _Well, similar to that, when you wish to reach the Isania, or ‘Balance’ you must combine the two energies. It is incredibly difficult to share as the two fight each other – water and electricity, destruction and peace, hatred and happiness. They don’t mix well. It’s like trying to drink orange juice while brushing your teeth : disgusting in every sense.”_ you play at, Frisk enjoying the comparison but understanding.

“ _But you mastered it, right? You said so._ ” Frisk points out which makes you grow in ego.

“ _I did. I have. I am a master of the three energy pools. I can’t explain the third pool to you. That’s because its an indescribable feeling and varies between users. Besides, you don’t have a single mean bone, muscle, or blood cell in ya!”_ you remind, playfully punching his shoulder as he grows a wide grin, proud of his easy-going and sweet nature. “ _I don’t even believe you have a venom pouch! You aren’t a snake!”_ You play more, tickling the kid until his laughing bursts into joyous cried pleas. You stop, letting the child breathe. Straightening back into your sitting position, Frisk follows suite as you prepare your magical flow.

“ _For beginners hand gestures prove very useful to assist with channeling, gauging, and pressuring the magic in a general direction. I want you to do as I do, okay Frisk?_ ” you relay, Frisk giving a firm nod as you both make flat hand gestures pushing forward. “ _Now, take your hands and imagine a bubble. A precious bubble, one you are fond of and have loved due to its beauty and texture._ ” You mentally picture for Frisk as you both begin to smooth your hands around the invisible bubble. _“You got that bubble?_ ” you ask as Frisk gives a shaky nod, focused.

 _“Now, continue to imagine that bubble but filling it with light. Any light at all : colorful lights, patterned lights, different sized lights, dim and bright lights, anything.”_ you urge as Frisk closes their eyes, concentration clear on his face. It takes a moment, maybe two, but it begins to glow. A bright miniature assortment of balls of light, shimmering different hues form between his hands. They are the size of Christmas lights but hardly dimmed. Upon closer inspection they look like little hearts floating around and it hits you. These are his friends souls he has imagined. It is precious and adorable and he isn’t even looking, just stuck concentrating.

“Frisk. Open your eyes.” you whisper with a beg as he peels open one eye as the other shoots open. He is lost in sheer amazement as the mental bubble pops. Upon instant realization you form a bubble barrier to insolate the tiny balls of light as Frisk stands and looks closer.

“ _I did that?! I DID THAT?!?”_ he is jumping everywhere, screaming the thought in your head with the greatest grin you have ever seen. He can’t stand still he is hopping about the yard with sincere bliss. You finally have to catch him in fear he will slip in the still fresh mud, grabbing his shoulder with a slight sense of pride.

“How ‘bout you head inside, get a jar, and we can put these little guys inside to keep? That sound good?” you suggest. He is gone within the blink of an eye, stumbling inside and jumping with joy. Nobody within was able to see anything due to the distance and darkness. A few moments later, Frisk is rushing out with a little kitchen jar Toriel must have given him in confusion. Manipulating the bubble, you squeeze it into the jar as Frisk caps it tightly. Double checking for a seal of approval, you release the barrier and the lights float proudly within, shimmering on the slightly distorted and manipulated glass in refractals. Then he starts crying which completely freaks you out.

“Frisk! What-whats wrong little bud?” you beg, kneeling over to cup his shoulders as he hugs close the jar.

“ _I…I-I made those pretty fireflies?_ ” he questions with the sweetest innocence of bliss you’d ever heard. It had to of given you at-least three cavities it was so sweet. Cuddling Frisk closer, you snuggle up to his shoulder as you both finally head back inside. Everyone has retreated to the living room in patience, Frisk had told them to wait in surprise. Rounding the corner before him Undyne rushes forward and pins you to the ground before you can even blink, painfully driving a knee into your throat.

“What did you ask Frisk that made him cry?! Did you hurt him?!! IF YOU HURTHIMIMMA-“ she cuts off as you give a pained choke, questioning only for a moment why your face is turning a similar shade of blue and purple to her own before throwing herself off you in concern. Clearly she wasn’t expecting that reaction. Coughing and choking, you gulp the necessary air.

“SH-SHITIMSORRYYOUALRIGHTIWASNTEXPECTINGTHATTOWORKINSTANTLYHOLY-“ Undyne begins a babble of apology and astonishment as Frisk sets the jar down to help sit you up, patting your back as you catch yourself.

“Undyne, really!” Toriel gasps, standing to walk over as you stand quickly.

“I-I’m fine. Really. Good.” you whisper out, waving off Toriels concern as you massage your neck. Clearing your throat you gesture to Toriel. “You might want to sit down.” you mumble a little louder, still coughing as Frisk rushes back with a little water. So sweet. That’s another cavity. This kid will give you dentures. Chugging down the water as Frisk picks up their hidden jar, you nudge him into view before announcing the news.

“Congrats. Your kids a mage!” you belt, a happy smile of pride on your face. Almost nobody else shares in the pleasure. Papyrus is the only one giddy, looking at the lights as they sparkle in his sockets. You choose to not count Papyrus since it seems anything and everything makes him happy. Everyone else seems to have frozen in time, besides Undyne who begins asking babbled questions. Toriel takes the first action.

She faints. Falls flat backwards on the ground. Everyone immediately breaks from the trance as Papyrus tries to dive catch her. He manages it barely, carrying him down along with her as he breaks her immediate fall. Frisk hands you the jar and rushes to his mothers aid as you give a huff.

“Told you to sit down.” you grumble, holding the jar close as Papyrus and Frisk fan Toriel with their hands.

“YOUR MAJESTY, WAKE UP! EVERYTHINGS ALRIGHT!” Papyrus cries out as he fans her majesty who is slightly roused. Alphys begins pacing in and out of the living room and kitchen, mumbling numbers to herself in percentages. Sans and Asgore are both still taking this in, faces unreadable. Undyne seeks answers.

“Frisk made this – those – these?” she asks, poking at the jar.

“Yes.” you flatly reply. She gives you a wary intense look.

“……and what kind of magic was this?” she pokes at.

“Oh my god Undyne this is like the simplest form human mages can do. I told him to make a mental bubble and put lights in it. He made a mental bubble and put little lights in it, and then we put them in a jar. Are you _satisfied_? Its not like I’m making summoning squares or signing him into a blood contract!” you harshly whisper back in annoyance at her presuming you had Frisk use evil or dark magic.

“……Whats a summoning square?” she genuinely asks, holding the jar to peer closer with her amber eye. You’re lucky she takes it as you are compelled to pummel your own head into the archway repeatedly. The dinging of the clock striking the hour fills the confused silence as Toriel finally flutters her eyes awake, dazed and slightly confused before recalling the events and burying her face into her paws. Asgore takes the clock ringing as a good break off point.

“Frisk, child. Isn’t tonight the day you have your little sleepover with Papyrus and Undyne at her house?” Asgore chimes in. Papyrus and Frisk become equally delighted at the reminder.

“AH YES! FRISK, GATHER YOUR THINGS!! WE MUST BATHE AND BRUSH BEFORE BED! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, PROPOSE A RACE!” Papyrus instantly wagers as Frisk gives a definite glare of acceptance along with a thumbs up. He kisses Toriel and Asgore goodnight as Toriel shifts to think on the couch. Sans gives a hard hug to the kid as he throws himself upstairs to gather his belongings. Looking over to Undyne, you take the jar from her intensive stare and dull your tone.

“I need to speak to the parents. Alone if possible.” you ask. She gives you a dirty stare before resigning to picking up Alphys.

“C’mon Alph. Lets go draw those little dorks a bath.” Undyne informs as she drags away Alphys who gives a very quiet goodbye. All that remain are the Dreemurrs and a very dark expressioned skeleton.

“Can I talk to the parents alone Sans?” you urge as he leans back and gets comfier. Oh. He will be like that. Before you can bark in frustration at this lazy lug Asgore puts up a defensive hand.

“Its alright for him to be here. If it’s concerning Frisk, he should be aware.” he tells. Sans raises his brow bones in an ‘I told you so’ fashion as you opt to stick out your tongue in disgust, placing the jar on the coffee table and take a seat opposite of the couch as Asgore takes up the little jar.

“So its true. He really is a mage?” he seeks confirmation as he glances over the jar. Toriel has come out of her paws with a hardened resolve. Sans is……unreadable.

“Yes. Now, I have other news for you but I will let you decide : Do you want the bad news or the absolutely terrible news?” you imply, gauging reactions. There isn’t much of anything ; they were prepared for consequences.

“ **tibia** honest, bad comes before terrible soooo…” Sans mulls about, stretching back in relaxation.

“Fine. Bad news. That was a fucking terrible reaction to hearing news you already considered a possibility.” You curse out, unwavered. “For a kid that’s already getting bullied and stared at probably at school for how he lives, who he is, and what not? I can say from experience he doesn’t need worried stares at home as well. I don’t care what _shit_ you have against the mages – channel that at me. I don’t give a damn. _BUT_. Don’t you _dare_ let that ever be directed at Frisk. It _will_ mess with his future, and that kid has potential. So, dammit, put it aside. He is still your child, still your Frisk.” you go from scolding to pleading. You refuse to let Frisk suffer through the same things you did, especially from people he holds so close. A little pitter patter of footsteps rushes down the stairs as Frisk comes by with a little backpack, blanket tied around his neck as a scarf with Flowey in one hand and pillow in the other.

“Ah, night Frisk. Have fun at your sleepover “ you wave as he gets really excited and comes over setting Flowey and his pillow on the table before turning to you. He makes a fist and cups it in one hand, giving a slight bow – the sign of respect. You weren’t even aware he was paying attention as you rambled about his space fist. Returning the gesture gets him riled up as he takes another moment to clamber onto the couch giving Toriel and Asgore another hug. Toriel seems to have taken your words to heart, claiming him close for an extended time. Finally clawing free of her clutches, he gives a fist bump to Sans and gathering his effects as he rushes towards the connecting hallway, Papyrus trailing a few seconds behind with an assortment of things.

Sighing, Asgore gives in to the sudden silence.

“And what is this worse news?”

“Its not worse. Its absolutely terrible news.” you correct.

“Yes. Fine. Please just say it.” Asgore begs. You feel awful for this frustrated king sometimes.

“Your kid is a human mage.”

“Please, Rea, just give us the news already.”

“I just did.” you reply flatly. He looks to you with confusion.

“I don’t understand Rea.” he pitifully replies, trying to wrap his head around it.

“Fine I will explain with example. A kid, a young child, finds out they can do incredible things. Everyone begins to recognize that childs potential. Word spreads. Spreads eventually to the void. Anything happening in the void goes to one little itty bitty time space. Know what that time space is?” you poke at, giving the horror time to sink in as Toriel and Sans try to catch up to speed.

“No.” Asgore pleads.

“Then another things catches ear. Whats that? It’s a hybrid child masterfully combined with two possibly ancient similar magic pools and is already being trained by a general _master_?! Sign me UP.” you sarcastically scream, glaring out the window at the overhead sky.

“You can’t take him.” Asgore tells.

“You’re what?!” Toriel understands immediately as a circle of magenta flames circle you. “No….You…You will _not_ take another child from **M** **E.** “ she bites. A distant yell happens before the world around you plummets into black and white. Looking around is nothing but a blackness as Toriel stands before you. All furniture and other residents has disappeared and she is crying. Above her you see numbers and letters.

HP – 440               AT – 80                 DF – 80

The numbers reminded you of an RPG style stat layout. You mastered your fair share of video games. For roughly 100 years it was the only other thing besides barriers and pointless lessons. Was this how Ebott monsters fought? Confused but accepting of their ways, you prepare for what Toriel will throw at you. Glancing to her she is transfixed above you, frozen again in place. Following her line of site you find…similar _letters._

LV – 2844             HP – 10                 AT – 666               DF – 1996

Whistling with amazement at whatever DF and LV are, reveling in your favorite number as AT and…HP 10? That seemed bogus. Before you glimmered a familiar sight. Your soul. Tapping it proudly with joy, it bounces happily. With your magic reserves contained within it makes you an easier target but gives you a-lot more ride out with any abilities. The plump heavy heart comes to cradle in both your hands as you admire the colors. Orange, Green and Dark Blue swerve through it, the blue creasing the inner form like a shell as the orange spirals around a green orb. Cracks are laced around everywhere. Same as it was yesterday, the week before, and the eternity before that.

As suddenly as the sensation starts your soul shrivels back into your body and the living room appears again. Toriel slumps back into the couch, out cold yet again. Asgore responds immediately.

“Wha- Tori! Tori, can you hear me?!” He begs, cradling her closer. Him and Sans both give you an intense look that Toriel had shared earlier. “What did you _do_?” he growls, looking frightening enough to summon forth a trident at any moment.

“Hey hey hey hey! I didn’t do NOTHIN’! She was looking at these numbers above my head, I was fiddling around with my soul, next thing I know im back out here and getting blamed for doing NOTHING!” you defend, putting hands up in innocent fashion.

“Numbers? Your statistics?........What were they?” he growls, giving back his attention to Toriel.

“Oh uh……hang on uhh…ok there was LV, HP, AT, and DF. Um. Okay. AT was 666. Easy.” you start out as both aware monsters shoot you stunned stares.

“that’s not funny, and i’m a bad-joke comedian.” Sans points out.

“I wasn’t joking! That’s what it said!” you hiss back at him presuming you to be a liar.

“The rest of the numbers Rea…please.” Asgore asks as he lifts Toriel up more, likely trying to carry her to bed.

“I’m thinking man. LV and DF were huge and I can’t remember which was which! Umm fff- LV was…was 2…dammit 2896?” you question. Asgore drops Toriel back onto the couch. “No, no 96 was the end for DF…AH! 2844. That was LV. DF was 1996! HA! I REMEMBER!” you point out, enthused with your quick memory. Asgore looks like death is staring him in the face. Sans is likely seeing that as well just isn’t reading it as they both stare incredulously at you.

“What? Is that weird? Off? Is it sick? Can numbers be sick?” You question out loud.

“yes. its _sick_.” Sans bites, taking a place between you and the royalty. His left socket is flaring a blue flame as a cyan eye takes prominent place within glaring back as he is hunched and raring to fight.

“Okay. Someone explain how its sick. I don’t understand Ebott monster duels. Fights? Can there be multiple?” you question as Sans doesn’t offer anything.

“LV is LOVE.” He growls. You cant help chuckling.

“Love? Dude, I don’t love ANYONE. There is no _damn_ way that is my love.” you hiss back, as the skeleton glares you down. You had given up trying to love anyone. Comes with the job, not managing to hold a relationship. Mirage and Forge were all you needed honestly.

“you’re right. you don’t have a _hair_ of _real_ love in you. LOVE is an acronym, short stuff. stands for level of violence.” he snarls as he pulls his hands from his pocket. It takes you a moment to understand it.

“Ohhhhh I get it……..yeah I wasn’t expecting it to be _that_ high but I mean I don’t keep a kill count on record and like some of these things I fight are inten-“ you begin to ramble before a set of bones comes flying at you, narrowly avoiding your face as one cuts your chin as the rest dig into the wall. You wont break eyesight with the skeleton as he glares you down. His sick smile hasn’t moved from his face as he straightens out. He instantly materializes infront of you, something materializing behind him as he scoots to the side. A gigantic animalistic skull floats in the air, blue glowing eyes furrowed as a white beam shoots out from the slacked jaw, thrusting you through a tear as you limply land on the ground. Barely able to look up in time, a mesh of bones comes shooting up through the ground. Using your hand you thrust up with enough magical force that you fly out of reach of the bones, only to be met with another intense burning beam that strikes through you.

You hit something in this place of nothingness. Slamming against it, you fall to the ground as you catch your feet onto the solid beneath. Suddenly the world returns to that familiar black and white setting as your soul floats before you. Sans steps into your sight, clear sweat beading down his neck as he looks onto your form. Looking up you can see his stats.

HP – 1                   AT – 1                    DF – 1

There is _no way_ its that easy. There is no way he would confront you with knowledge of what you had for supposed stats if Toriels were higher. He has a something _else_ , something interesting. You watch his eye flicker blue and yellow, flames licking the socket as he stares you down.

“i wanted to believe maybe our luck had taken a good turn. i wanted to have hope that _maybe_ despite who you were, what we knew and didn’t, and with frisk? maybe you were good. but _man_ if i have never been more _wrong_ in my **_life_**.” he chuckles deeply as it rings in the dead space surrounding you. Standing up, you know this will be a dusting off the cobwebs as you crack your neck. Its been awhile since you’ve been allowed to let loose.

“i am a great **judge** of characters, and let me tell you. you? you were vile _right_ from the get-go. its not even a question that i _need_ to stop you, so i will just say it you , you   **d i r t y   m u r d e r e r**.” he growls as ten more skulls appear behind him. “you’re gonna have a    **b a d   t i m e**.”

You can hardly contain your giggles. He obviously thinks you’re out of your mind, but you’ve lost any regret. Your eye starts to swell with magic, you _feel_ it spinning, processing, adjusting, timing, channeling, directing, amplifying, _everything_ to just give you juice. Your hair strips free of that human brunette tone back to a sleek white you knew and loved.

“Oh Sans. Don’t you _know_ not to read a book by its cover? Didn’t you learn _anything_ from that newsperson?” you giggle, trying to contain yourself as you pull free your scythe, holding it close with a dear caress as balls of flames and electricity sprout behind you, spindling from above on impossibly thin wires.

“ **D o n ‘ t   b e   s o   q u i c k   t o   j u d g e   m e .** “

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AW SHIT. WTF is that Sans X OC doing in the tags if they be dueling X'D?!  
> IDK, but its MUCH MUCH later!!  
> Mueheheheheheh =U=
> 
> Leave comments below <3 I love them


	6. Time for Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keep attacking. He can't dodge forever.  
> Why did you stop?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. Sorry. Had some real hiatus on this chapter and hopefully the next comes a little faster.  
> However, to those who don't know, this likely wont be getting a chapter til about two for my other fic make it out. Those usually consist of 3-5 day intervals so really don't be surprised at the lack of updates.  
> I apologize ahead of time - its just this isn't my primary. Its to help just chill my nerves. 
> 
> However, I greatly appreciate the views it gets for being a wild idea :) Thanks you guys <3

Even though his smile withheld, you knew it was slightly genuine as you cast yourself at him, lunging and striking with explosions of elements, Sans fluently dodging and retaliating with intense particle beams erupting from the skulls slacked maws. Passing the beams easily, you hone in closer and closer to your target, watching that same number.

HP : 1                     AT : 1                     DF : 1

If his health was _truly_ at _one_ , how would this be an even fight? Even in your exhilarated pacing, dancing with the murderous intent being projected at you, if you landed a single hit he would die. Dead. Sayonara. Even lunging at him with every intent to break that smirking skull beneath your foot – you _can’t_. Closing in, you realize that as he is sending his canons at your approach, he isn’t going to avoid it in time. Gritting your teeth in frustration, you jump him, directly into an awaiting attack.

 _Sneaky little f-_ you glee to yourself before you’re rocketed across the emptiness of the void, glaring back in delight and then instant depression at someone who had the capabilities to equal yours was so fragile. Sighing and dimming your aggression, there’s only one way to work this out. Internally, you settle your anger and force, taking a calmer view over the situation, no matter the utter despise it boils into you. Finally a fair fight and it was so out of reach.

… _Maybe **Papyrus** was more likely to put up a fight ; but he hasn’t shown any aptitude for conflict in the past few times you’ve made interactions with him. _ Dodging away as a coordinated flurry of blue and white bones being sent flying at your distanced direction. Looking over him, sweat is already beading down he features, slow panting as he has hardly moved from his location.

_Oh god no wonder he has such low statistics._

Watching the gravity around him floating him up, his jacket flares around him while his pupiled eye pulses a brilliant cyan blue mixed with yellow as clear wrath and hatred covers his face. He truly wasn’t going to give you a chance. _Quite_ the judge of character. The grinding of his teeth is practically audible from the distance, but the void is utterly quiet despite the extremely one sided duel taking place.

Truly remaining calm and collected during his constant barrage of bones and beams isn’t as infuriating as how you’re going to have to explain the following situation to Asgore. In an instant, he vanishes from your sight.  You hear him materialize moments later, behind you as you take the moment of his nearby availability and easily throwing yourself out of the fire-line of another wave of bones. Cupping your hands together and thinking of a sealing this _persistent fuck_ away, you create a tri-layered barrier bubble around his form before the gravitational pull brings him back to earth with a thud. Sighing, you sit back ruffling a hand through your hair while wavered muffled screams come from behind the magic containment as Sans screams and bangs against it, absolute rage and fury in empty eyes.

_How was this skeleton more expressive then most humans?_

Advancing your track, you nudge over to the edge of the bubble, sitting against it while leaning your weight in. It doesn’t roll despite the abundant lack of stopping force in this nothingness. Groaning and letting your head tip back as your eyes flutter closed, you take shallow breaths while relaxing the rest of your core. Pressing your ear against the bubble leads to the slight rattling of bones. You refuse to look at Sans as you begin to speak.

“I know you can hear me in there, but I can’t hear you, so don’t go straining your non-existent voice box, eh?” you offer as a barrage of grunts and barks muffle past the bubbles. You can only make out ‘fuck’.

“I don’t give a fuck what you’re saying, so I’m just going to talk and you can listen or not. I just feel like talking, thusly – fuck you.” you spit, refusing to look at him. You wonder where to begin ; why do you feel _compelled_ to share your past and excuses with this asshole? There wasn’t any excuse honestly – this was your life and you had come to accept that over the extended miserable life it was. Sighing and accepting, you result to rambles.

“I wasn’t like the mages – I wasn’t born in their system. I _hated_ my life ; easily aggressive little brat. Before they took me in, I had little to no control over my magic – and _man_ when it erupted……it was an _accident_.” you self-plea as your thoughts recall your past. You forge on, “In all honesty…if I gained one LV for every human _caught_ in that _‘accident’_? Heheh…it would be over 200 by the time I was seven.” you admit, shallowly and filled with terror as you plant a palm against your forehead. It was hot and sweating. Was it from the sudden magical exercise or the fever? Maybe both. It was pulling your concentration away as you allowed one of the bubbles to disintegrate which allowed Sans to be heard but still incapable of doing anything. Yet, he said nothing nor made any sound.

“It was tough – being alone and stared at with such disgust. They said I was possessed ; my eye was that of the Devils. Lucky me getting born into a religious town, huh?” you chuckled. It wasn’t funny. “The only way I avoided anyone finding out about my powers was bubbling it up, like my emotions and needs. ‘Driving myself away is for the better – I would never hurt them no matter what.’ I would tell myself, going off into the woods and practicing on my own. Eventually, though, someone broke that little mantra of mine.”

“It was at school. Bullies being bullies, a girl shot pitiful little spitballs that stuck in my hair. Everyone would giggle, but I wouldn’t care. Hairs too damn white to even see it in, heheh…” you joke at your locks as you run a regret filled finger through them. “Well, I was feeling courageous that day. ‘It’s a misunderstanding – I just have to clear it up!’ I told myself. I turned and confronted her in a nice way. She screamed because of my eye and threw her orange juice into my face. I panicked and screamed, lunging out at her and we both fell to the floor. My eyes burned like crazy…” you grumble recalling the feeling of wanting to scratch them free of your sockets. Orange juice was _evil_. He still hasn’t said anything, not even rattling. You disregard the silence and continue speaking whether or not he listens or cares.

“She screamed of how I was trying to _kill_ her. If I wasn’t so confused and hurt I might’ve laughed, but everyone believed her. With my one good eye I glanced around and everyone had sprinted from their seats to the closest wall to try and get away from the ‘monster among us’……the teacher sided with the majority of the class, dragging me into the hallway. She didn’t give me a chance to defend myself as where I came from the teachers were _allowed_ to physically punish you. So she did. Here’s a helpful hint : Smacking a kid with a wooden paddle _doesn’t_ make them stop crying.” you groan, recalling the sheer sting it brought. Back then you were convinced it would leave permanent bruises that would stay there for the rest of your life, quietly covered with tattoos to make it something else. What luck they didn’t, or you would need to cover the majority of your body in them.

“Making matters worse, she was doing all this yelling, beating, and condemnation in the middle of the busy school hallway. Teachers, other kids and parents were watching on, whispering. In my head it was the most humiliating moment of my life. ‘I haven’t done anything wrong! Stop blaming me, please! Please stop!’ I would feebly beg which only made her angrier for my ‘blatant lies during a period of constitutional confession’ I think she said. It was at that moment, that single moment, I felt _hatred_.” The word spits from you as your heartbeat rises in pace, your memory giving recollected images of what occurred, and……the aftermath.

“It was like a little voice in my head said ‘They haven’t done anything for you. Why should you be nice to them? What have they ever given you but pain, suffering, and stares? They haven’t had a reason to stare……so I’ll give them one’……And then I exploded.” you finish. You wait a few moments to let those words sink in before continuing on with your stupid rambling. _Why am I explaining this to **him**_?

“I _literally_ exploded in magic. In more technical terms, I screamed, allowing my emotions to skyrocket and the third pool that I didn’t even know I had freed, unleashing hell across the entire school and nearby stores and houses. Walls collapsed, people were cut down or exploded, glass from windows and lights fell _everywhere_ along with pools of blood. It somehow triggered the fire-alarm ; the water hung in the air as floating droplets accumulated. It stopped after about ten seconds, and I blacked out from the sudden outburst.”

“…………” _Nothing from him, huh? I don’t even care if he’s there anymore, everyone says talking about your troubles helps you vent out some steam. I’m too worked up and in the middle to give anymore fucks about who is listening._

“I woke up. I woke up with a bag over my head, enraged screams and rocks getting thrown at me. My hands were tied and they were tying me to something. They pulled off the bag…They had tied me to a pillar in the middle of a pile of firewood, match at the ready. I didn’t even have a moment to process what was happening before they lit the wood. I don’t know why but I looked for my parents, maybe hoping a glimmer that they cared enough about me to stop this madness. They were dead. Their bodies burnt to a crisp. They had been killed because of me, claiming they were using dark magic. Because of _my_ existence, all those people at the school, my parents? They were _dead_.  All blood on _my_ hands.” Now you were visibly shaking. No matter how much you scrubbed and scrapped, you could still mentally imagine the blood dripping from your fingers and palms, guts and fire below you symbolizing your body count as you stood atop a mound of defenseless foes. There was no pride, nothing you did was ever your choice – but theirs.

“Before I was set ablaze, Baysoph, the oldest coot back at THC, saved my life and dragged me back. They healed me, trained me, and perfected my abilities. I didn’t ask for it, but I didn’t go against them. It was the nicest anyone had been to me my entire life. I thought it could last _forever_ – me making magical friends who _understood_ me and my doubts, my fears. But they had bigger plans…”

“The world stumbled into war. Atleast, my world. I was about ten in human years, still in my seven year old body as I refused to return to that wretched place. I was given little to no choice. I was turned into a murderous puppet without realizing it, but once I had the bodies had already been piled up. They used my frustrations and sheer energy to topple the opposing enemy, collecting the ancient spoils that had been locked away as I got nothing but a pat on the head for my crimes. If I had felt anything, I likely would have vomited. The next 50 years went like that : killing for magical treasures Baysoph claimed were rightfully ours, binding and sealing imminent threats, keeping humanity from fucking up anymore then they already were.” you groan as you list off your sudden responsibilities. Still no remarks from the supposed company. Could he teleport out of their? For once in what felt like an eternity, you felt tears dribble down your cheeks. Ah…nostalgia. You refused to show this weakness to the ‘enemy’.

“Eventually, I got sick of them bossing me around and using me as their chore mutt. I rebelled, opening to who I truly am. Baysoph nearly became the sun he was so excited he was steaming. It was pretty gross. By allowing myself to break the chains they had put on me, I had allowed my past to hold me but my future to free my thoughts, thus perfecting Isania, the ‘Balance’. I had become a ‘masterpiece’ to the magical word!” you gloat as Baysoph would like, extending your arms to the worldless void.

“But that’s never what I was. I _never_ wanted that in the first place. I ran away – into ‘ the in between’, or as you call it, ‘the void’. I didn’t get lost here ; I floated in thoughts. What _was_ I? What _did_ I want to be? Well, I wanted to be a protector in my own way. With that single thought in mind I returned, much to the old mans tearful delight, and demanded to be given a purpose besides what they’ve allowed me. Then, they gave me free rain over the world. It was immense responsibility put onto my shoulders in one fell swoop. I did as best I could to maintain the world left in my hands – stopping wars, maintaining peace and helping them grow and prosper globally. Of course, there were…hiccups. Nothing was perfect, and it never _could_ be. Finally, the world reached a point of understanding and I backed down. But I had made a mistake. I had allowed so much of my energy to flow into that world that it too stopped aging, or atleast greatly slowed it. They were too blessed and proud to oversee their quickly growing numbers ; they multiplied like _fucking_ rabbits. Food grew scarce, emotions tensed, the world became smaller as they grew in size and numbers. I knew why Baysoph had allowed this so easily ; he knew I would fail, that I would try to idealize a perfect world where there wasn’t crime, where there wasn’t any hatred spread about.”

“I did what I had to – that world, those people, they were _my_ responsibility and I had let it get out of hand………I did what I idiotically thought was the right thing, even though it was the complete opposite of what I had set out to do. I took no joy in it. I felt nothing. I was, and still am, an emotionless puppet held together by their strings. I will never have my life. I might as well have _died_ in that fire.” you hiss, clutching your knees up and burying your head in complete revulsion.

_Why did I bother to talk about this? He doesn’t care. He was trying to kill me a few moments ago, why the fuck would he care about your life story?! This was pointless – just like everything else you’ve done._

You internally agreed with your hate filled conscience as you turned to look if your prisoner was still there. He was. He was staring at you with wide sockets, but a darkened expression over his facial features. Why did he _have_ to constantly be so _creepy_? You manage a weird glare at him in the stilled silence.

And then he spoke.

“do you believe that even the worst person can change? that everyone can be a good person if they just try?”

His question throws you, but his serious tone grounds you. It felt like a test. But you already knew the answer.

“That depends on the person. If they are willing, seeking change for the better, then yes. Yet some people are incapable of change, of amending what they’ve done in the past with their future actions. Some just can’t change their perspective to what others are expecting, or they deceive those willing to chance it. It would take time, but its doable. Yet, even then, they can still be judged for whom they used to be…” you reply. You’re both sharing in a dead-panned stare. His face reads clearly – though he has that constant smile, its forced and uncertain. Sweat trickles down his skulls and jaw before a clicking of his teeth sounds out and he plops down into the natural curve of the barrier, leaning back in comfort.

“for paps, asgore, and the kid……you’d better be one of those who’s _willing_ to change.” he grunts out, poking at the barriers wall as it slightly molds to the contact.

“Ha! I’m incapable of change. There’s no returning or redemption waiting for me. Just a job.” you solemnly reply, slumping back against the unrolling sphere. Looking inside as the inner sphere slightly rolls to his comforting movements, he slightly reminds you of a hamster.

“is that what you considered this and everything else you’ve done? a _job_?” he hisses in offense.

“Yes. Its more of a contract if anything, but not everyone gets jobs they enjoy. So far – baby-sitting and training a young mage is the highest on my nicest job list.” you openly admit, a smile pressing at your cheeks as you try to imagine the possible bond and happiness you can have for once in your life. Frisk is different from others and completely capable of breaking down a defensive emotional shell.

“heheh. didn’t know you were so cruel as to sit on infants.” he chuckles giving you a lazy stare.

“W-What? When did I say I sa-“ you retort before realization hits you, glaring at the giggling skeleton. “That’s not funny.” you correct, a deep chuckle rumbling the inner bubble.

“yes it was. ‘course you can ignore this old bag of bones and continue **skullking**.” In utter grief you turn to not give him the satisfaction of your smile. How could you be smiling at such _terrible_ puns?

“You’re horrible.”

“i could say the same about you.” he husks out, all emotion drained suddenly. He must not realize his tone for a moment because he suddenly clears his throat (what?) and scratches his skull with his phalanges.

“heh..heheh…forget i said that. just being **marrow** -minded.” You sigh and turn to him, almost saying something but catching the pun before shrinking the inner bubble on purpose. He begins squirming, sockets shooting wide as the bubble caves in. You can hear silent curses under his breathe. At the last possible moment, you pop the inner bubble, leaving only the last as a final break-off. As he clatters to the ground, leaning forward he gives you a confused look as you can’t help breaking into hysteric cackles at the strained focused face. You tip over, rolling to face away as you clutch your gut, trying to force down the barrage of giggles that slightly spirals out of your control. Finally taking a few breaths with huffed laughter, you turn back to him glaring amused electricity at you.

“that’s just mean.” he comments as you snicker at the knowing tone as he sits up, maneuvering towards the edge closest to you.

“Oh really? I thought it was quite **comical, Sans**.”

His eyes lit up in instant amazement, slight flabbergasted but soon pulled over with excitement. You feel a wave of terrible jokes coming.

“so when’s the jail break? i don’t usually have escape problems but my **skeleton** key seems ineffective in here.”

“Really? Skeleton key?” you ask as he gives a unapologetic shrug. His calm demeanor and his light hearted and awful puns were clear subject suppressors – Sans seemed like a wise comedian, but not one to dance around tough trivials. If someone had walked in currently and seen your situation they wouldn’t be the wiser of how you were both trying to kill each other not even ten minutes ago. Contemplating the worlds time, you dig out your phone. Batteries dead. Groaning and refusing to look like an idiot talking to their cellular device, you shove it back into your pockets.

“know who my favorite singer is?” he asks out of the blue. Glancing at him, his shit grin has returned and you’ve hardened your defenses.

“Who?”

“ **pelvis** presley.” he chortles as you turn away and cover your mouth. He can likely tell your cracking as he continues on.

“what do you call a skeletons snake?”

“What?”

“a **rattler**.”

“Okay that one was just plain awful.”

“hey, some strikes some misses. no sweat – i got a skele **-ton** more!” he laughs. The smile is there before you can hide it away in shame.

“whats a skeletons favorite musical instrument?”

_Oh, oh we know this one!_

“The xylo- **bone!** ” ,” a trom- **bone**.” you both comment at the same time. Sharing in confusion, Sans is the first to roll back in giddy laughter as you hold in snickers to your misfortunate yet comedic wrong answer. After a solid minute or so of shared laughter, Sans sits up and needlessly wipes nonexistent tears from his sockets before replying.

“why are you so confident that it’s a xylo- **bone**?” he asks, a sturdy confidence carrying through his voice.

“Because you could play your ribs, spine and bones like it was one. You don’t even need to get a trombone!” you reply much to his amusement as he gives a few more laughs.

“alright. i will allow this victory to you – but i will win it back. _i’m_ the **punny** one in the house. don’t go breakin’ my heart.” he jokes as the lyrics to that song pop up into your head.

“I couldn’t if I tried…” you return, popping the final bubble as he plops feet first back to the ground, breathing (?) the thin air in the void. Hiding your embarrassment for making such a statement, you clear your throat and approach with a handshake.

“I believe we got off on the wrong foot. For now though, Hi, I suppose I’m Rea.” you answer, offering your hand. He unpockets his hands and extends one to shak-

PPPpppfffffttii

You could break his hand with the flush tension springing to your face. Pulling back your hand, he waves his own giving a knowing wink as he reveals the attached whoopee—cushion.

“heheheh the old whoopee-cushion in the hand trick. classic. hey there smalls. the names sans. sans the skeleton.” he tells with a quizzical smile of curiosity as you hide your face in your hair. You hadn’t seen that coming and the shame mixing with the childish concoction was more apparent then semen on root-beer. As he tries to lean down and get a better glance at your hidden face, you open a tear behind him.

“J-Just gimme back my book by tomorrow y-you **numbskull**!” you scream with a heated expression, shoving him backwards onto the living room carpet before shutting the opening. Widening another, you jump into it and land face first on your bed, accepting the pillow close to your face in hopes of suffocation. Commotion and laughter was rumbling downstairs and you wanted nothing more then for this world to open up and eat you whole.

You were _never_ one for being flustered.

Taking a few moments to gather yourself and take more fever meds, you idle into the bathroom and settle into a bathtub of bubbles. The bathroom emits the sweet aroma of eucalyptus and vanilla as you scrub your hair and skin, every so often peering over into the mirror. You hadn’t changed back into the more human appearance as the bubbles added more color to your contrasted locks. Leaning over the edge and resting your head, you remembered the immense power Sans emitted during the fight. His power and resolve outdid even the kings, but the king was never one to purely hate humans, so the comparison wasn’t genuine.

Shifting about in the tub and looking over the slightly pink room that you know you’re going to have to clean, the heated water soaks up the remnants in the tub, turning the bubbles slightly pink. No longer wanting to share with the colored blend, you rinse out your hair and stand while it drains. Wrapping a towel around your body to stop the instant chill from leaving the pleasant warmth you hover before the mirror, taking in your bizarre appearance. Giving a light sigh of acceptance, your hair darkens into a kobicha brown as you let your eyes return to their neon yellow as you absentmindedly run fingers through the darkened locks. Drying off and rubbing the towel at your scalp, you step out into your room and see fresh steam radiating off a new bowl of soup.

Toriel was such a blessing. You’ve made probably the worst impression with her and haven’t come to know he enough, yet with all her distrust in you she still has the kindness and maternal need to make sick soup. Opening the curtain and letting the moons glow illuminate the shadowed room, you slip the towel off and shimmy into light pajamas before taking up the bowl and retreating to your locked private study. Inside, you relish the cushioned leather of your computer chair before typing away. Writing up side logs, looking up confidential analytics about your hosts and guests. Monsters had to undergo light scientific studies more or less pertaining to information about them, and you had seamlessly hacked into their database. Nobody would ever know. Scrolling through, they appear to go in a general order of species and A-Z names. Skimming over unknown names, you hunt for the familiars. Fiddling around and expecting Asgores name to first catch your eye, your internally ashamed of your memory as you nearly bypass little Alphys.

 

\--Doctor Alphys Core      **Underground Occupation** : Royal Scientist            **Current Occupation** : Assistant in Astronomy and Bioengineering / Monster Government Official         **Estimated Age** : 350+ years

 **Bio** : A rather shy specimen with extraordinary with an adept resourcefulness and impressive IQ. A short reptilian monster of 4’9” with large bifocals and a average to height tail. Her teeth impressions provide she is an omnivore, however no direct age can be applied through the impressions. Aside from her intelligence and wits, she seems incapable of performing basic magic besides light electrical zaps. She displays a large love towards animated culture, a spectrum of sciences, human makings and anatomy, and the Royal Guard of the Underground – Undyne Waterfall. Her known experiments : Amalgamates, Flowey, Mettaton. She admitted to assisting King Asgore in extracting six human souls in order to break the magical barrier sealing Mt. Ebott.

Tabbing out from the information page you question the existence of Flowey. It claimed him under an experiment and you also agreed how off it was for nothing but a flower to be a monster. Recalling that contorted face he’d made upon your known arrival, he was definitely from the Underground but placing his existence amongst monster kind was odder. It felt……off. Another thing feeling off was the souls, but you filed that into necessary questioning. Resigning, you scroll not much farther and happen upon the big fuzzballs information.

\--King Asgore Dreemurr                                **Underground Occupation** : Ruler / Royalty           **Current Occupation** : Office Worker / Monster Government Official                 **Estimated Age** : 1000+ years

 **Bio** : The king over the land known as the Underground. A large head to toe height of 7’2” with horns adding up to 7’6”, he is a white furred goat with yellow hair and beard. He appears to be an omnivore, no age based on teeth impression. Once father to two children, one biological son and one non biological daughter from the surface. Previously married/bonded to Toriel Dreemurr. Upon his offsprings deaths at the hands of humans, he collected human souls in an attempt to break the barrier. He is a kind hearted old man who has a large estimated 8’ crimson red trident. His magic ranges from healing, fire, and causing his trident to uptake orange and blue colors at will. He displays a large love for his citizens, his family, his friends, tea, a normal family life, humans, peace, and gardening. He has admitted a list of human law offenses including multiple murders – first degree, kidnapping, hate crimes, and disturbing the peace however due to lack of human rights he isn’t currently being charged and the government is handling the situation. 

Clicking out of the tab, you rub at your face. Fuzzy had quite the plate of offenses for being such a softy. Now you had to try and give him basic human rights along with no jail-time. Returning, you jot down the list into a notebook, putting important information within and also adding Alphys’ name in despite the lack of dirt. Assuming that all those souls didn’t stumble down there at the same time and it was _over_ his life span…how could anyone accuse him of kidnapping.

 _Frisk_.

As soon as your brain thought up the answer you were growling and fidgeting with your hair. How _dare_ his parents try to claim such crimes when Frisk was happier and safer with Toriel and Asgore?! This is why you gave up on humans in the first place. Writing down Frisks parent involvement on a sticky note for when you pulled up Frisks bio, you proceed on. Your slightly surprised to find Floweys bio, but it doesn’t prove extremely helpful.

Flowey the Flower          **Underground Occupation** : Occupant     **Current Occupation** : Middle Schooler

 **Estimated Age** : Unknown

 **Bio** : A rather rude and persistent flower barely reaching 1’ in height. Previous experiment of Dr. Alphys Core. Has control over a varying large set of thorned/dethorned vines sprouting from the soil around it. It refuses to display any magic besides the vines. It displays minor likings to the human ambassador Frisk, Asgore and Toriel Dreemurr, Papyrus Snowdin, and the pain of others. It has an array of childish offenses from rudeness to threats and physical abuse against others.

Closing out of the tab you only really learned Flowey is a prick to basically everyone but Frisk and few friends and family. Unlike other monsters, however, he takes _joy_ in the pain of others? Never before seeing the weed smile merely drives the point to his utter world hatred. Moving on, Frisk’s name rests snugly below his. You gulp before opening the file page.

Frisk Dreemurr (Kaffley)                               **Underground Occupation** : N/A                **Current Occupation** : Middle Schooler / Monster-Human Ambassador              **Estimated Age** : 10 years

 **Bio** : Human child of about 4’6” who supposedly used the six human souls the monsters had collected and shattered the barrier. Instantly, they took up role as the human ambassador and spread word quickly of the monsters existence bringing immense coverage to their arrival. Though claimed and agreed under the Asgore and Toriel Dreemurr as their child, Frisk truly belongs to Wyatt and Ginger Kaffley who currently are pressing kidnapping charges against the Dreemurrs. A mute child who uses American Sign Language (ASL) for conversation that most of their guardians are supposedly lingual in. Against all biological and non-biological parentings, they claim Papyrus and Sans Snowdin as their ‘uncles’, while Undyne Waterfall and Alphys Core are their ‘aunts’. The child seems to have a love for everything and everyone. Parenting rights have yet to be determined.

Leaning back in your chair and taking some eat your soup, you bury back into thought while using your better hand for writing down notes about Frisk. This child for being so normal was the farthest thing from a normal life. Along with the information provided you include the likely magical tendencies the child will have. Frisks information took up nearly two pages of notes. Moving on, you try to recollect who comes next to return to scrolling and stopping at familiar names. Next appears to be Papyrus.

Papyrus Snowdin             **Underground Occupation** : Sentry of the Royal Guard    **Current Occupation** : Part-Time School Coach/ Part-Time Florist             **Estimated Age** : 275+ years

 **Bio** : A loud skeleton with a slightly selfish and childish attitude. Standing at about 6’4”, he previously served under Undyne Waterfall as a sentry in the Underground on the lookout for humans. Under claim of Sans Snowdin being his younger biological brother, he prefers the name ‘The Great Papyrus’. His magic consists of projectile bones, turning the ‘soul’ blue, and being a master of puzzles and traps. Despite his childish, silly outlook on everything and ‘battle body’ he is strong for his fragile appearance. Skeleton monsters aren’t comparable to human skeletons : his sockets are smaller, his jaw strangely attached with nothing besides bone, and he can perform basic expressions including odd instances of stars forming in his sockets. He appears to be an omnivore and claims monster food disperses inside jaw and vanishes to create magic fuel within their ‘soul’. With a wide range of likes and dislikes, he seems to mostly love flowers, spaghetti, his scarf/cape, his brother, humans, and his friends. With clear disapproval for his actions he admits to multiple offenses including attempted murder, assisted kidnapping, and disturbing the peace. Heavy denials from the rest of the Royal Guard go to Papyrus being innocent of all charges.

Backing away you can barely believe what you read. _That_ Papyrus _tried_ to kill someone? Maybe even tried to kill Frisk? You couldn’t understand it well, but then again you basically understood nothing and would only find out by asking the correct questions at opportune times. Jotting down the notes, you press on. Of course next is the comedian himself.

Sans Snowdin    **Underground Occupation** : Sentry of the Royal Guard / Hot Dog Vendor / Part-Time Scientist / Momentary Ticket Seller, Telescope Lender, and Ice Cream Vendor / Comedian / Escort / ‘Judge’ for the King                **Current Occupation** : Security Guard / Bouncer / Ice Cream and Hot Dog Vender / Comedian / Gas Station Cashier / Scientist of Astronomy and Physics / Monster Government Official       **Estimated Age** : 325+ years

 **Bio** : A hysterical shorter skeleton at around 5’7” that takes up a multitude of responsibilities. Constantly sleeping, cracking jokes and puns, or showing advanced intelligence. Under claim as the elder brother to Papyrus Snowdin, and ‘dunkle’ to Frisk Dreemurr (Kaffley). Despite his supposed lazy nature he has a range of magic abilities from bone projectiles to large animal-skull summons that shoot matter materialization beams and turning the soul ‘blue’. Very fast despite his size, very intelligent despite his nature, very untrusting and hate filled despite his smile. His skeleton make-up greatly differs from Papyrus Snowdin and a humans : His skull is one piece and upper jaw teeth seem to instantly connect with the lower jaws; overlapping the set. He appears to be a omnivore, similar to Papyrus Snowdin as monster food vanishes in jaw and provides fuel to the ‘soul’. He appears to like Frisk Dreemurr (Kaffley), his friends, his brother, astronomy and other sciences, the sky, ketchup and other condiments, slippers, and comedy. He admits to charges against him including assisting murder, assisting kidnapping, and uncertain hate crimes. He also appears to have PTSD and nightmares with uncontrollable magic instances. Caution must be used during his sleep stages.

Clicking back to the top, you have to slowly read over all his current occupations with a bead on concerned sweat trailing through your cleaned hair. Why was it necessary he have so many jobs? You couldn’t, however, deny the probability of him having involvement with Asgore in the humans souls capture. Also, the ‘judge’? PTSD? ‘dunkle’?! Sans’ information easily took up two pages.

Toriel Dreemurr                                **Underground Occupation** : Co-Ruler/ Royalty / Keeper of the Ruins         **Current Occupation** : Middle-Kindergarten Teacher / Monster Government Official         **Estimated Age** : 1000+ years

 **Bio** : Previous Queen of the Underground before retreating from the royal setting and hiding out in the Ruins of the Underground relinquishing her title. A female goat standing around 6’8” with much smaller horns compared to Asgore Dreemurr, her divorced/unbonded husband. Mother to a deceased biological son and non biological daughter. Has claimed parental ownership of Frisk Dreemurr (Kaffley) and is being equally charged with kidnapping. She is a mostly maternal woman with high pride, understanding, and sensibility. Her magic consists of healing and controlled fire. Denying involvement with the murders of children before-hand that lead to the six souls, she is only being charged with kidnapping. Her likings range around snails, gardens, baking pies, friends, family, Frisk Dreemurr (Kaffley), and peace.

While learning little of Toriel, you realize something else. All the souls they had accumulated……were _children_? You could hardly imagine Asgore being a child murderer, but you knew his reasons and his wrath likely propelled him forward for the time. Refraining from asking too many questions at once you resort to the final of your known list : Undyne.

Undyne Waterfall            **Underground Occupation** : Captain of the Royal Guard                  **Current Occupation** : Physical Trainer / Police Officer Trainee / Government Official     **Estimated Age** : 400+    

 **Bio** : A tough fish-humanoid who doesn’t require water to breath. With blue scales, a sharp set of teeth, gills and red flowing hair, she can even be considered a slight beauty amongst humans. Her attitude is strict, rash, and truthful and she is very physical and constantly angry. Her magic seems to consist of brute strength and the ability to summon an array of spears into existence. Her likings include Alphys Core, her friends, Gerson Senior, others physical abilities, honesty, passion, animated culture, cooking. She has been charged and admits with assisted murder, hate crimes, and disturbing the peace.

Sighing and leaning back, you drink the rest of your soup quickly, write down the last of your notes and close from the hacked site while perusing your options. Turning off your computer you roll over to your realm watcher and flick through previously attended realms, all left with a beacon so you don’t return and waste time but allowing you to over-view for any new happenings. While thinking on the matter you fish out a beacon button that would look like just any ordinary colorful button and magnetize it to the size of your computer.

 _Just in case_. You self mutter before returning to the watcher. It resembles a bigger crystal ball on a large ancient wood pedestal, but the pedestal has an array of magic symbols similar to a keyboards alphabet. Even if the monsters managed to get in here, your information was likely inaccessible. Glancing over the different universes and dimensions you deem nothing is out of place, grab your bowl, and make your way out the door.

Opening, you are and aren’t surprised that Sans is once again in your room. However, he looks more surprised to see you coming out of the private study. Closing it quickly behind you despite false worries, you whisper the enchantment before quickly locking it up. He slowly returns the book he’d ‘borrowed’ by watching you very curiously. Finally finishing the locks, you turn back to him whilst holding the keys.

“Oh, finally finished reading that hmm? Awful rude to borrow things without permission, _especially_ , something so private. Lucky for you and me it’s a generally boring read. Now you would _love_ to hear what happened in the last one but I haven’t gotten around to finishing that one so you’re just going to have to wait.” you coo, placing the bowl down on the table to properly replace the book he’d left with. He is still watching you intently.

“hiding a skeleton in your closet?” he asks as you groan at the implication before looking to him. Its only now you realize you have no bra on and the cold is starting to perk your nipples to the **nipping** cold. Covering your arms over your chest in a calm fashion, you scoff at the skeleton.

“A. Its not a fucking closet. B. Theres a reason it’s locked – because I don’t want you or anyone else in there, so of course I’m not telling you what the hell is in there. C. Get out now, please.” you drawl, giving a light shooing motion with your hand as he chuckles while opening a rift.

“sure thing smalls. i can respect your privacy.” he chuckles, disappearing as it closes.

 _Says the fucker who stole my log book._ Sighing, you stretch and clamor onto the bed, settling beneath the sheets.

BZSSssZZT-“aaaaah!!”

A small electrical zap along with Sans being thrown from the void that appears on the studies wall is the implication he tried to sneak in. He sits up, facing and staring with betrayal at the wall as you giggle quietly.

“What the hell happened to that ‘I can respect your privacy.’ line?! That room is designed to keep out the persistent pests who would try to snoop. _Stop_ making yourself look like an idiot and get out.” you chuckle, settling back down into the warmer blankets. He lets out a few cusses and gruffs before vanishing back into the void.

You fall back asleep with quite the sense of accomplishment.


	7. Time to Feel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our little mage is experiencing feelings that are hindering her work and thought process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy hell I'm SO sorry this wasn't dated like I planned!  
> I'm sorry. I had ALOT of difficulty writing this chapter!
> 
> I hope its okay Q~Q"

Awaking with a miserable headache, you grumble and groan as you let yourself fall with a pleasant thud against the hardwood floor. You accept the light piercing through your curtains as it dances with colors gleaming across the floor and continue to lie there, on the floor, like a corpse. You remain in this position for a few more moments before the cold and harsh grit of the floor unbending to your form like a mattress finally drives you to sit up, leaning your head back against the mattress as you gaze up to the ceiling. Accepting the new day after allowing clarity to roll through your mind, you properly stretch and begin scanning your dresser for appropriate clothes. You settle on a dark grey bra and panties, the underwear displaying an Oscar the Grouch on the back along with the logo “GROUCHY PANTS”. It just felt right. Slipping on a very soft and comfortable pair of capris and a shoulder sagging white shading to green t-shirt, you review your bookcase. Now you must take caution in who can intrude in your room. Giving a quick scan, you deem that everything is in its rightful place as you glance at the wall clock left behind. It needed dusting, but you could make out it read it was nearly eleven. Accepting your fate, you swing open the bedroom door with a stretch, yawn, and pop of the shoulders before creaking your way down the long set of stairs. On the way down, you individually take great pleasure in cracking every finger, your wrists, elbows, ankles, toes. _Everything_. The tensions and soreness of the slacked battle that commenced last night still vibrated an energy through your frame, but it was dulled with the stiffness left behind. The adrenaline had reduced the pain you’d felt and you were left with nothing but a electric ache.

Shuffling into the kitchen, you prepare toast and eggs, drizzling shredded cheese and cooked broccoli into the eggs cooking white before making it sunny-side-up and sandwiching the pleasant meal between two sets of nicely crisp and buttered toast. The yolk explodes and slightly burns your tongue, though the overwhelming pleasure multitude dancing over the burning taste-buds drives any concern from your mind as you take another greedy bite. Glancing over at the schedule, you realize today Frisk and Flowey will be having a half-day. Considering the actions from last night, you rather would avoid them. Not because they hated you – but if Toriel knew, she would likely go on the defensive. Sitting alone in the barren house far too big for the single individual, you succumb to doing dumb stuff. Screaming metal songs in order to charge your phone, cleaning more of the pink from your bathroom while blaring ‘Stolen Dance’, gazing out at the neighborhood in silent judging.

A mere hour passes before the boredom of your situation settles with you as you catch yourself writing up a separate report journal regarding your current experiences in this universe. You hide it away in your personal study for safekeeping and privacy before sighing and contemplating going out into this world and watching human to monster interactions. Your phone suddenly blares with a text and you begin scorning Mirage for texting you so out of the blue until you don’t recognize the number named under Unknown. Curiosity clicks open the message.

 **Unknown** – Meet me at Little LOL Café at 1:30 P.M.

You had forgotten the ridiculous name, but that was the café/barista shop you passed by when you first arrived here. Glancing at the clock, it read 1:04 P.M. The walk to the park was a mere ten minutes but you head out early, ready to face this faceless threat. You glance over yourself in a hallway mirror, ensuring your eyes and hair are human enough before making your way downtown.

Arriving at the shop, that cat and alligator you’d glimpsed at from the outside greeted you in their near perfect unison. The shops walls were white besides the artistic flowing waves and bubbles of pinks, purples, blues, yellows and greens dancing about ; adding a vibrancy to the place. For the moment, you zoned out from the pleasant greeting they provided and glanced around. The shop was much less lively without an assortment of bustling customers. A few humans and monsters were scattered about, making pleasant conversation of focused on their laptops. A blue and red figure waving towards you caught your eye ; it was Undyne. You calmly approached the table and she held a stern face as you seated yourself opposite from her before pulling your phone loose of your pocket and displaying the text.

“You couldn’t just _tell_ me it was you and you wanted to discuss something?” you quirk at her. You are more relieved it isn’t someone you don’t know yet they know you. Though her face isn’t screaming with friendly thoughts or emotions.

“I needed t’ talk to you. It doesn’t matter what I put – you’re here.” she murmurs, looking out the window for a moment before giving you a stern gaze. “I don’t give a damn what Asgore has to say in defense to you – _you_ are the reason we were down there in the first place.” she hisses. You instantly realize what this conversation will consist of.

“ _I_ had _nothing_ to do with the creation of the barrier all those years ago. My ancestor may have cooperated in the war, but not in that sealing. Even _then_ he sought peace. The war is over. I have come to help, _not_ imprison.” you bite back at her. She aggressively slams her hand to the table, causing the utensils to lurch and clatter as she grits her fangs together.

“You think I’m going to just _trust_ your fucking word?!” she screeches. The majority of the customers are looking at the steaming fish as she glares down onto you, clear hatred in her eyes. Hearing the clearing of a throat, you both look over to meet the startled face of a bipedal goat. Not like a faun, just a goat standing on its hind legs. They had lush eyelashes complimenting the more unique light blue eyes of a goat. The sideways elongated pupil never really freaked you out, but the shade of her eyes was light yet deep ; transfixing even. She sported a pixie pompadour cut that swept bits of yellow at the ends while her thin but maintained fur coat was a pleasant straw brown. Her face was similar yet differing from a goat : her snout shortened and her mouth clearly more mobile as she spoke up.

“H-Hello. What can I get for you uh……ladies?” she seemed confused, as if that was a proper thing to call you both. You didn’t blame her – you and Undyne appeared very intimidating and referring to you as a lady just felt indecent. Looking over to Undyne, she was quick to scour the menu.

“I’ll get the uuh iced coffee with the daily special – hold the fruits.” she proclaims politely as she hands the waitress the menu. The _only_ menu. You sigh and catch her crafty grin as you carefully peer past the goats hairdo to sneak a peak at the cafés menu board.

“I would like the mochaccino along with the bacon egg and cheese omelet.” you humbly ask as she is quick to jot down the order and scurry off behind the counter. You can hear whispering as you groan and turn back to Undyne. “You’re covering my drink, remember?”

“Yeah yeah – that’s the only _damn_ reason I picked this place. Done and _over_ with.” she grumbles, resting her hand to her chin and staring out the window at the beautiful day looming outside. You sigh and accept this will likely be how she treats you for the better portion of your stay.

“Undyne. I am not asking you to trust me with everything. I am asking you trust me enough that I can just stay upstairs. If you don’t trust Asgore words and not me, tell me that straight faced right now and I will move out from upstairs.” you inform. She remains silent yet locks into eye contact with you. Time flies when you are staring down a potential threat. Eventually, the succulent smell of espresso mixed perfectly with steamed milk and chocolate approaches as the goat is quick to drop off your little brunches and take off back behind the counter. You don’t waste much time as you eagerly sip the sweetened chocolate mixture. It is sincere bliss as you release a grateful sigh. Undynes order consisted of a generous stack of pancakes along with chopped hash browns. She was salivating as you both quietly at your food for a few more minutes.

“I ain’t kickin’ you out.” she groans, cheeks stuffed as she is still chewing down a large bite of the hash browns. “I fuckin’ should. I should gut and kill you. For the past crimes of _all_ the mages, death seems merciful.” she hisses, glaring down at the plate with her one good eye. Swallowing her mouthful, she continues, “I wasn’t there for it. But I know you _need_ to be here. I can’t protect them. Asgore tells me its pointless, any other mages are too strong. Do you have _any_ idea how fuckin’ ridiculous my circumstance is? I’m a guard, yet I can’t protect _anyone_!” she beats her fist squeezing her fork to the table, the remaining silverware giving a frightened clatter. She manages to withhold her yelling as only a few take notice to the commotion. Before replying, you take another satisfied sip of your drink.

“I know what it’s like. To be unable to protect something or someone, to feel _weak_. I still am weak and inexperienced in more ways than one.” you admit, setting your cup down gingerly as you intertwine your fingers together, squeezing your palms together for stability. “My parents, my people, my world? I let them _all_ down. In my ranks I am not the wisest, the strongest, nor the fastest. Merely well rounded. The only thing making me differ, making me _valuable_ , is what I can reach and control.” you relay, tightening your grip in self-spite. You allow a moment of silence to pass between you before you give her the most sincere yet serious stare you can that aches of fear.

“I cannot promise anything. I cannot promise I will be able to protect them. I cannot promise things will only get better. I cannot promise many things Undyne, including being able to train Frisk, avoid the THC, keeping these ‘Black Hearts’ under lock and key, maintaining the barriers, and not becoming human and monster public enemy number one!” you growl, aggravated by the increasing list of responsibilities, “On top of that I need to ascertain your basic rights, keep an agenda on everyone, control my and Frisks magical release, get an _actual_ job likely, and just…just-“ you cut off for a moment to run your hands through your hair and pressurizing against your scalp. You never took medication for the increasing headache bothering you. You shake it off and relinquish all troubling thoughts.

“I just can’t do it all. Don’t you dare feel like you aren’t protecting someone – there doesn’t need to be only one protector. “you finalize before eating through some of your omelet. The suspicious silence from the fishes end concerns you, and looking up you are met with a very confused face. You grumble and swallow harshly, having to sip a generously provided water to avoid choking before making it clearer.

“You are not useless. You are a fine protector. I will require your assistance in ensuring everyones safety.” you dismally add to that speech. She leans across to punch you directly in the shoulder as she cackles with excitement. You can’t hold the wincing hiss of air ; the punch will likely leave a bruise later as you tenderly hover over the impact zone.

“Don’t go tryin’ to butter me up, you magic punk! I agree to helping protect them, but I don’t agree to trusting you! Ya gotta _earn_ that!” she barks while looking utterly full of herself. You force a laugh and the both of you finish off your meals. Disheartened by the vanishing act of your mocha, Undyne wagers something.

“I’ll buy you another drink if we talk strategy and what to expect.” she bargains. You immediately glow to the possibility of a refreshed beverage and nod without hesitation. A few minutes later, you are happily sipping the warm drink that sends little electrical buzzes through your mind before placing it down and looking to Undyne “What the hell are we dealing with outside our home?”

“Your only honest threat is Zebbulon. He is a more physical based mage but his attacks can be lethal. He specializes in flame and lightning magic that he can use from a distance.” you shudder.

“That bad?” Undyne inquires as you give a concerned nod.

“Physical based magic is more about touch – a force meeting another force. However, Zeb is capable of using his physical attacks as projectiles. He doesn’t _need_ to be up close and personal. He could set a village on fire from a mile away.” you summarize as Undyne clearly isn’t looking forward to facing this ruthless foe.

“B-But we got you, me, Asgore, hell maybe even Sans!” she replies with a list of the boss monsters ready to defend. You shake your head.

“Undyne. _I_ can hardly take on Zebb. He was one of my teachers when I first _began_ to display my magic. He knows _every_ trick in my book. He can out-power me. He can out-speed me. Hell, if he focused, he could likely take _complete_ control of the battle. I would be _dead_ in an instant. Drawing you guys into such a fight would only end in dust.” you finalize, hanging your head lower to the table as you take another sip.

“Then what the _fuck_ are we supposed to do if he or anyone else shows up?!” she demands.

“Well, the good news nobody else _should_ show up. Baysoph and Zebbulon are the only others, besides me, who are _capable_ of void traversing. Should anyone else attempt it they would be lost forever or likely go insane by the time they managed their way back. Baysoph is away on business but is too old and silly to both coming either way. Thusly, Zebbulon is the only _real_ threat. But, he will know eventually…” you admit as you rub your eyes.

“How the hell would he know if we keep the mouths and magic shut?”

“Because I have to report to Baysoph about _everything_ when he returns to business.” you mutter.

“You would _betray_ us?!” Undyne barks, reaching across to grab the collar of your t-shirt, threatening to spill the sight of your dark grey undergarments to the store.

“I don’t have a choice! He _knows_ when I am lying or leaving something out – I can’t just not speak of it!”

“Whats the worse that could happen!?”

“Eternal imprisonment as nothing but a breeder!!” you shriek back, grabbing her shirt in reply as she looks at you in confusion. You catch yourself and let her go. She follows suit and allows you to grumble back into your seat. The silence doesn’t catch.

“A breeder?”

“Shut up. Not a word.” you growl as you crumple your legs up like a child and nestle in close to hide away from the world around you.

“I don’t think that’s something you just mention and skip.” she argues.

“It’s not even related to the topic on hand, so yes, we are skipping it.”

“For _now_.” she raises and eyebrow before finishing off her iced-coffee. You sigh and await _that_ conversation, but right now you must retain your focus.

“So what will happen if this Zebbulon guy hears about Frisk?”

“Well, he will approach this universe. I don’t know anything besides him taking Frisk back to the THC. He could go about on a killing spree. He could imprison me here should he get the chance, or the _balls_.” you mutter as you continue to drink your chocolate delight. Undyne snickers quietly to your de-manning complaint before a catchy anime tune plays off her phone. Sliding out her phone, she swipes through to read her messages and gives a sigh.

“Welp. Frisk got out early and went home with Papyrus and Tori. Frisks asking for ya to head back before Tori has a heart-attack about you vanishing. “ she grumbles as she fumbles for her wallet.

“Oh no. I would _hate_ to get her **goat**.” you reply, standing and giving a popping stretch. Undyne glares at you with regret.

“Make that joke again and you’re the one whos going to be paying.”

“With what? I am broke. I will work on that, but right now I gotta head back. What ‘bout you?” you ask while ensuring everything you brought remains with you.

“Eehh. Was my lunch break. Gotta get back to the gym.” she scoffs, though she is clearly excited.

“Need a lift?” you give her a sly wink with the offer.

“Hell no! I know what Sans does – I ain’t getting in your space, or ‘that’” she barks as she waves you off, paying at the register as she darts out the door. You follow, refusing the easy transport of the void to instead travel on foot and ponder. Review your options. But there are hardly a wide vary of options to choose from : protect Frisk and monsters from literally everything. No _biggie_.

Clicking open the front door, you are met with distant concerned noises and blabber. Walking towards the kitchen, the conversation catches your ears.

“I-I’ve looked _everywhere_ Asgore but she is nowhere in the house nor left any message of her departure-“SMALL MAGE, THIS HIDE-AND-SEEK GAME HAS UNFAIR RULES!!” “Papyrus, please!”

Making haste to the kitchen, Toriel is fiddling with the houses phone cord while she paces about and Papyrus is looking behind hedges in the backyard with Frisk. You immediately clear your throat as she spins around and visibly relaxes her frame.

“She’s home. I-I’m sorry to trouble you……Yes…Ye-No. No I have to hang up. Have a good day. Yes. Bye.” she finishes and hangs up, taking an easy breath before ruffling her ears and giving you a stern motherly stare. “Where have you been?”

“Undyne asked me quite literally last minute out to a café for her lunch break.” you admit while giving her a coy shrug.

“Did you use any magic?”

“No. Does this mean I get a gold star?!” you fake your enthusiasm. Though, she pulls out a little packet of stickers from her teachers jacket and plants one right on your forehead. You give her a annoyed gaze though you had technically _asked_ for it and she got a little snicker out of it before pressing the sinks window to the outside open.

“Papyrus, Frisk! Rea is home!” she calls out as their heads swivel in surprise. Moments later, they are both bounding and bouncing inside. Only now do you catch that Frisk had been forcing Flowey to assist in hunting you down. The tiny monster hasn’t muttered many words to you, just an ongoing indecisive stare. 

‘Where were you?’ Frisk signs excitedly as you peel the star sticker off your head and Toriel warily returns to the stovetop preparing something.

“I was uh…on the roof?” you lie, hoping to not have to answer a _billion_ questions about what you and Undyne spoke about.

“BUT I CHECKED THE ROOF; YOU WERE NOWHERE TO BE SEEN!!” Papyrus cuts in, stumped confusion on his face. He checked for you on the _roof_?!

“I was _above_ the roof Papyrus.” you give a knowing wink to Frisk. You can practically see the sparkles forming in both of their eyes.

 “YOU CAN LEVITATE?!” Papyrus gasps and shrieks as you offer him the shiny star. He nearly puts it on himself before he reconsiders and sticks it onto one of Floweys petals for his assistance. The flower hisses in agony as he can’t pry the shiny stick film from his form.

“I’d call it more or less flying but, yeah, sure.”

‘ _I_ wanna fly!!’ Frisk signs and tugs on your arm, begging. You instantly look to Toriel and she clearly doesn’t approve of the activity.

“Maybe another time lil’ man. When you’re a little more trained and prepared, with, of course, your parents permission?” you inquire, sparing a glance to a grateful Toriel who returns to her work. Frisk obviously loses some of his enthusiasm on the matter and drags Papyrus and Flowey off to videogames while you lag behind with Toriel. The awkward looming silence wafts over as she begins whisking a cream. The tension finally stops as she speaks up.

“I appreciate you refraining from using or displaying your magic around Frisk. I hope you understand that I just……I want nothing to happen to that child. Frisk has been nothing but happiness and a blessing since we took him in.” she speaks out, you listening to her. A mirthful smile cast into deep memories spreads across her cheeks.

“It’s no doubt that kid is nothing but pure pleasantries. I will try and keep ‘im outta reach of the more ‘sinister’ technicalities of his abilities, but Toriel………I can’t keep him away from discovering who he is. I can try and ‘redirect’ his path, but if he is more physical based then magical…there isn’t much I can do besides teach him how to control those emotions.” you admit as you both share in a solemn silence.

“Can you explain exactly what that entails? I-It would be best to understand what Frisk will be going through.” she decides, removing her oven mitts as she slips the mixture into a mold and into the set stove.

“Sure, do you mind me quickening the explanation are you a detail demander?” you inquire as she gives a confused yet soft giggle before seating beside you, leaving plenty of personal space for you to work.

“I don’t mind a quick explanation so long as I am permitted questions.”

“Deal.” you swivel yourself around to face her and create the sign for ‘The Meeting’. “This is a respected sign to mages – it is ‘The Meeting’; the fist represents the human aspect of our physical endurance, willpower, and strength. The space represents the magic aspect of our spiritual endurance, lightheartedness, and freedom. Those capable of connecting these, forming ‘The Meeting’ ,are capable magicians.” you start off, giving Toriel a moment to process the information before moving on.

“Within each magician are three pools of magic. Usually, depending on the behavior and feelings of a mage, they tend to lean more towards a physical or magical existence. The magical pool, named Serenity, is the easiest pool and likely Frisks main focus during this training. Serenity is basically fueled by positive emotions and memories. It’s being relaxed but concentrated. With Frisks often positive outlook on non-positive subjects, it’s a fitting category. Since he is a trainee, I instructed him to let it flow through to his fingertips Hopefully the training will be helpful and he could even be capable of healing with enough practice. But, I suppose his curriculum is up to me, you, and Asgore.” you sigh as she gives a stern nod. Wouldn’t want it any other way.

“The second pool is Venom, representing the more physical base of the magician. It’s pent up negativity and miserable emotions that is let loose like a wine cork. Venom feeds off that animosity – that negative feeling and crackles it through the system like a shot electrical circuit. It’s simple to learn for those who seek destruction. The movements are more jagged, predatory even, for you need to let that dismal lightning through you, and if you don’t properly give it an erratic path, you can…… _pop._ ” you make a little explosion detail with your hands as Toriel watches with increasing concern.

“Pop? What do you mean?”

“Pop. He will _literally_ pop. Say something terrible happened and he became erratic and so angered by it. If he doesn’t control that feeling, without proper training, his energy would explode out of him, causing mayhem and destruction to anything within the range of release. The range of release is based off the energies build-up. Say someone has been flicking him in the nose and it irritated him enough to pop – it likely wouldn’t discharge far and it’s such a pathetic reasoning it likely wouldn’t do much besides cracks in the wall and car alarms. Now – say someone has been bullying him for months on end and he has just let that feeling build and build inside him until suddenly it erupts when he least expects it. _That_ will reach father and do _much_ more harm to his surroundings.” you reply to her quickly as she squeezes her hands together. She obviously disapproves of the training of such a chaotic power, but you also know it is necessary training to prevent such an accident from occurring.

“And what of the third pool?” she asks, trying to jeer of the unpleasant subject. However, it doesn’t really work.

“Frisk won’t be reaching the third pool. He isn’t capable.” you shoot down her question, turning way to fumble with your thumbs. Toriel doesn’t like that half-assed answer.

“What do you _mean_ he isn’t capable?”

“He isn’t capable. He won’t be reaching that pool. It’s just out of his reach.” you defend.

“And how would you know?”

“Because I am his mentor in magical training and he isn’t qualified to reach it.” you were getting a bit louder, but you had to in-order to out volume Toriel.

“So what would he need to do to qualify?” Toriel is becoming defensive over Frisk suddenly being incapable of doing something. She doesn’t know what she is speaking out about.

“Hey, if your _fine and peachy_ with him _killing_ you all, he can qualify!” you bark back, standing abruptly in an attempt to glare down at her. They chair made you slightly taller as you know look up to her horrified face.

“W-…Wha-“ she tries to babble but you growl over her.

“In order to reach the third pool, you need to _completely_ cut off any love in your life. Permanently. Loved your parents? Gotta axe ‘em. Fell in deep love with another? Not allowed! Got any really close and dear friend? What friends. He would need to destroy it all from him. To reach the third pool would require the breaking of Serenity and the overflow of Venom. A force pooling. Once its done, it isn’t reversible.” you grumble, falling back into your chair as you let the words sink in, how she pieces together how you mastered all three pools. You don’t let her get a word in once you catch the recognition in her eye.

“It wasn’t on purpose if you plan to accuse me of murder, though it might as well. I popped. I got them killed because I _didn’t_ control my emotions. I refuse to let Frisk go through that.” you snarl before walking out to the backyard. Your headache continues to strive and the moments tension is riling you up to unsafe points.

Moments turn to minutes and minutes turn to hours. You hardly are aware of your meditation time until you let yourself blink back to the reality and notice it’s the dead of night. A light illuminates the house with laughter inside as everyone is gathered around the dinner table. Before you is a covered plate of food still piping hot, a blanket around your shoulders and keys for the backdoor. Looking at the dining room window you can clearly make out Undyne and Toriel, Papyrus and Asgore likely off at the sides and everyone else too short to peer from the window at your current angle.

_That’s what you gave up. You’re sitting out here like an emotional ass while everyone you **should** be getting along with is inside getting chummy and still treating you with enough respect. _

But you know better.

Clutching at your shirt, you feel your heartbeat to solidify your life is still within your own grasp. _You_ are the only one who can change that. They helped Frisk. They seemed willing to help you. Despite the threats, the complaints, the fighting, the doubts : they still provided food and warmth regardless. Likely just how monsters are…

_But perfection comes at a price. Growing closer will only effect you more._

Sighing, you accept the dish. It’s actually delicious, then again you hardly doubted Toriel. Finally stretching and stiffly rising onto your feet, you let your back pop in irritation before leaning down to carry your finished plate inside. Toriel and Alphys are busy at washing the dishes as Alphys visibly jumps to your entrance. Before you can apologize or back down (though you had done nothing besides walk in) Alphys scurries off, claws still dripping with suds as she shuffles into the living room.

You sigh, approaching the sink and dumping any scraps into the trash below before plopping it beneath the bubbles, resting your head against the counter as Toriel merely watches. Her face is a struggle of emotions and words. How do you fix this awkward air?

“I’m sorry………about before. About everything I suppose. I just…have screwed up everything since I have been here.” you start, Toriel giving you time to speak, “It’s just the past is… _touchy_ subject.” you mumble, looking at your palms and caressing the creases absentmindedly. “Hell I have hardly spoken a word to her and Alphys is petrified of me.”

“That’s well….that’s not _entirely_ your fault. Alphys is just very shy. Very cautious.” Toriel tries to explain as you opt to helping fish around in the sink for items requiring cleaning. The suds are blocking all form of vision.

“She’s cautious because I’m a mage…” its less of a question and more of a knowledged statement. Toriel merely heaves a sigh as she accepts to drying the dishes. You’re honestly surprised with the amount of trust you’ve earned with Toriel over these last few broken days. The sound of the TV playing in the other room along with giggles and groans thumps something inside you that had once been so foreign. You need to take a moment to still your heart, the agonizing jumping is leaving you breathless. Toriel believes you to be having a heart-attack as she is quick to reach out to both of your shoulders to help support you against the counter. You can’t help forming a frustrated fist that shakes with hatred. _When had you become so weak?_

“Rea? Are you alright?” Toriel sweetly asks as you look up to meet her eyes. A mothers face. One eager to help, fix problems, be there for her children. Its slightly overwhelming.

“Frisk can’t be a mage.” you practically beg, letting your head hang low.

“But you were the one who agreed to train him.”

“Toriel.” you reply, looking to her with a pained face. You finally knew what this feeling was. The loss was catching up with you at the least opportune time. “Mages have to give up their families, regardless of their love for them. Frisk _strives_ off that, it’s what fuels him. His _family_. That’s what makes him different than the rest of us……and that’s for the best.” you chuckle, grasping at your forehead in frustration.

“Why are you speaking of this now?” Toriel pleads, kneeling down to look into your face.

“Because I’m letting myself get sentimental and mushy. If I let myself attach to you guys, even slightly, it will screw me over in the end.” you retaliate, trying to shove her arms from your shoulders. _Hold it together_ …

“But you could _thrive_ from it. Like you say Frisk does.” Toriel replies, giving such a pained sweet grin to you as she rubs your cheeks. When had you let yourself tear up? This was detestable.

“But I-I’m not Frisk. I’m a murderer, a threat, I don’t even exist here! Forming an attachment will only hinder me an-and my job is to only protect you guys. I am supposed to be heartless. I am supposed to be in control! If I l-let myself accept _emotions_ like this i-inside then I-“ you stutter incoherently while your anxieties turn into aggression. Toriel cuts your talk short as she pulls you into a soft embrace. You didn’t remember ever getting such a warm, willing, _loving_ hug.

_These monsters hate you. Don’t let their actions deceive you. They only keep you here as a bodyguard. You are nothing but a hardened shell. You aren’t meant to feel._

“But you and Frisk are both human.” Toriel sighs as she clutches your back, slightly tighter but you are in no place to complain as you merely remain frozen in place against the warmth waving off her _incredibly_ smooth fur. “You are both human. You feel fear. You feel agony. You feel _love_. It’s a natural response, a natural expression with emotions and truth. Don’t deny it. You have saved my mate and child in your short stay. Despite all the opportunities to turn around and betray us, you have stuck beside this _nutty_ family against everything you know. That takes great courage and an even _greater_ heart. To own up to your mistakes in the past and change them for a better future.” She encourages, giving you back some space as she offers you a tissue.

“Tori is right.” comes a deep voice as you flinch around to Asgore standing confidently as he walks in. You furiously wipe at your eyes, embarrassed with your hot tears spilling out so casually. Damn them both! Asgore gets a kick out of you appearing so defenseless as he ruffles your hair. You smack his hand away as he merely laughs it off, Toriel snickering as you give him an agitated glare. Little feet tap into the kitchen before pounces around your leg. You stumble slightly as you try to playfully pry the child from your leg. He nuzzles into your thigh, his hair slipping underneath your shirt and tickling your stomach. Realizing the proper people are finally alone you clear your emotional pallet and lean down to rub Frisks back.

“You told your parents yet?” you ask as he tenses up. He clearly avoided it. “ _Frisk_ …” you growl as he tries to flee. Nabbing his sweater, you lift him helplessly into the air. “You told me you would talk to them about your problems and your past. I will even _be_ there if it makes you feel better!” you comply as Frisk tries to curl into himself like an armadillo or a pill-bug.

“Its alright Rea. Please. Frisk – you don’t need to tell us now if that will make you feel better but……but please realize. Me and…and your father will be here whenever you need us.” Toriel whispers, taking the child up into her cradling arms as Asgore accepts just petting his head.

‘I will talk about it. Its better to do it now then later.’ he signs as everyone moves to a new, more quarantined sun-room. Asgore settles the child into his lap while he and Toriel sit against a fluff couch. The large windows supply excellent light for the array of herbs and flowers potted within. You slide over a chair, willing to offer any assistance.

“Frisk. If you aren’t comfortable with explaining it yourself, I can sneak a peek at your past.” you whisper, wisping your fingers to let little flecks of magic glow of the ends as Frisk gives a knowing nod before speaking directly to their souls. A few minutes later, Toriel is practically choking Frisk in a hug while Asgores silent wrath could drill a hole into the moon. Frisk seems unable to continue, climbing into your lap despite Toriels neediness.

“How far did he make it?” you silently question before Asgore clears his throat.

“The uh…the _hitting_.” he snarls out the last word. You hardly blame him. Toriel visibly jumps to the mere word as she grits her teeth, desperate to relieve the growing aggression inside. Planting your hands besides Frisks ears, you focus all of your attention into delving into his past. What he went through. The pain and abuse of his prior family. It nearly comes like a flipbook as you watch through Frisks eyes.

The words are muffled, the images distorted to the unclear memory. Things are being thrown – his parents are bickering. You can feel his helplessness as he takes a little backpack and flees the home. Directly to Ebott. You watch him fall, encounter Flowey, Toriel. Eating pie, naps, stories of snails. Having to move on despite the desperation in Toriels voice. The sincerity of that hug. Sans being Sans, Papyrus being a nutball. Dating Papyrus? Having to fight despite their friendship that only grows from the mercy given. Fleeing a barrage of spears from none-other then Undyne. Sans whisking Frisk away mysteriously quick to far-off locations in the bat of an eye (likely his ‘void’ movement). That _threat_. It sends a chill through you. Becoming friends and cooking with Undyne, calling her and Papyrus over the phone. A lonely ghost with snails? Alphys hiding inside her lab. A weird…calculator using an over exaggerated comedy show-host voice. This array of shows and odd fights. Pink heels and metallic hair? You steer clear of whatever that _mess_ was. Alphys is dating Frisk now? In……a trash dump? Undyne and Alphys getting together. Everyone being spared and Asgore wanting to take Frisk in. Everyones there. Everyones happy. Flowey. _Flowey_. **_FLOWEY._** “I will save him. I am deteremined to save him.”. A mere memory, but everything is so much more vivid, lively……… _happy_. You understand Frisk a slight bit more, despite the invasion of privacy as you retract from his thoughts as the monsters see the sun.

“Frisk had abusive parents. Uncaring and regretting having a mute child. Honestly, some humans are the _literal_ scum of the planet. Easily aggravated with Frisks extra needs, ignoring his positivity. He ran away from home. Back then, there was a rumor. That whoever neared Ebott would disappear forever……people assumed they perished on Ebott……Frisk went there for _that_ purpose.” you clarify as Toriel is quick to sweep Frisk from your grasp and begin planting loving kisses across his tear stained cheeks. Asgore soon joins the embrace as they both whisper and smother Frisk. You can hear the saddened honesty of his soul.

‘ _I’m sorry…I-I’m sorry…so-so sorry’_

“Shhh child, you’re safe now…” Toriel whispers, humming a little tune as everyone tries to settle down. This is obviously a private moment for the family, and you excuse yourself from the room. You almost think you hear Asgore mumble ‘thank you’ before you silently shut the door. Shrugging it off, you pass an exhausted Papyrus as he slumps against the wall, yawning. Looking to the time, its clearly past Frisks bedtime which was supposedly Papyrus’ bedtime. What was he doing awake? Why did you care? Regardless, you approached.

“Papyrus?”

“HM…A-AH!! REA! HOW ARE YOU THIS EVENING?” Papyrus asks enthusiastically, though you can see he is straining to stay awake against the wall.

“I could be better. What are you doing up at this hour?” you ask curiously as he gives a sigh, looking to the clock.

“W-WELL…SANS HAD BUSINESS TO ATTEND TO.” is all he merely replies with. You wait a moment, expecting more.

“What does Sans have to do with when you can sleep?” you finally ask with a groan. He begins fidgeting.

“WELL FOR A BEDTIME STORY OF COURSE!!” he clarifies. You look to him in bewilderment.

_You can **not** be serious with me here…_

You gaze back at proud and pure sockets.

 _Dear fuck he is serious._ Sighing, you rub your temples.

“Well Papyrus. Sans wouldn’t want you losing sleep just because he isn’t here to read you your story. He obviously cares. How ‘bout I read you a story?” you offer. Papyrus takes a moment to think but excitedly nods.

“VERY WELL SMALL MAGE! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM HONORING YOU WITH THE DUTY OF BRINGING FORTH DREAMLAND! BE IN MY BEDROOM IN 5 MINUTES FRIEND!! NYEHEHEHEH!” he laughs abruptly before using the last of his energy to burst through the main house to the side portion belonging to the skeletons. Heating a glass of milk for yourself, Alphys and Undyne have also already retreated to their housing. You hadn’t had much to any time to speak to the small dinosaur, but you likely would get the chance eventually. Striding through one of the connecting doors you enter a much smaller kitchen with a sink you can hardly reach. The stovetop is burnt slightly and as you make your way through the home you notice a table with a box on it. Inside the box is a rock covered in sprinkles. You don’t question the skeletons hobbies. Their living room is large : a nice dark teal carpet covering the entirety, a wall mounted plasma TV, a funky couch that looked oddly comfortable but had clear use abuse indents hidden well by pillows and blankets. An array of photos of the monster group and other things involving the skeletons and their friends are assorted along the wall as you ascend the staircase. Flipping through your phone, you miraculously come across one of your old favorites : ‘A Long Long Letter’. Dubbing it worthy of the sleepy skeleton, you give a bewildered knock against the first door you find ; it is adorned with security tape, multiple ‘PLEASE KNOCK’ and other warning signs as you carefully knock.

“COME IN!!” Guess it was the right door. Opening the door, you enter a room that clearly only belongs to Papyrus. You can hardly take it all in at once, its an array of objects compiled into one room. A computer set to a lone social media site. A box of bones labelled “memories”. A purple rug with flames at the ends, design flickering inward. A complete shelf chock-full of stories, manuals, board games and puzzles. An entire dining table with a impressive collection of action figures. A _fucking_ race-car bed. Papyrus snuggled settled underneath the beds covers with a unnecessary nightcap. He has flaming bone PJ’s and is sitting pleasantly in eager waiting for you, pulling over a stool quick and tapping it anxiously. You’re too struck with confusion to even question his choices and just meander over to the stool and settle back.

“I, uh…wasn’t aware you had your own little…collection of books. I brought one, but its pretty simple…if you want I can just grab on-“ you begin gesturing to the shelfs collection but Papyrus waves it off.

“THAT’S FINE! A NEW STORY WOULD BE NICE TO HEAR! IT WILL BE A DIFFERENT CHANGE OF PACE FROM FLUFFY BUNNY!!” he enthuses, slipping under the covers as he brings them to the base of his jaw, uncovered hands gripping the sheet with thrill as he watches you pry open the old book and clear your throat. Been a while since you read anyone to sleep like this before.

“Alright. ‘The Long Long Letter’, by Elizabeth Spurr.” you speak up, crediting the proper author before opening the pages and displaying them to Papyrus. It’s a storybook afterall. You even designate voices!

“ _My mother got a postcard from Aunt Hetta. It read: Sister dear, don’t you owe me a letter? She received a second message: I’ve had no mail for a dog’s age! A third – in bold calligraphy – said : Have you quite forgotten me?”_

 _“ “_ Land o’ lovin’,” _sighed my mother._ “Why, just last month I wrote her. Poor woman must be lonely, way out there in the boonies. With no kith nor kin to care for, she has too much time to fret. I’d better write a long, long letter – one she will _not_ forget!””

“ _My mother sat down at her pine-topped desk to write. With a fine plumed pen she looped and scrolled, morning, noon, and into night. She badly burned the dinner. It was a long, long letter.”_

_“She wrote through fall and winter, into spring, and summer. The days grew warmer, longer. I grew taller, stronger. It was a long, long letter.”_

_“She wrote of cabbages and crocuses, sausages and shoes. The newly born, the price of corn, the cranking phone she’d never use! Of darning socks and scouring pots, broken clocks and knitting knots. She wrote of all the chores she had no time to do – thanks to the long, long letter.”_

_“One day after breakfast she said, “_ Let us mail the letter. There’s still so much to tell her, but I’ve no more ink nor paper.” _We put the letter into boxes and hauled it in a wagon We gave it to the postman, who stuck a thousand stamps on. It **was** a long, long letter.”_

 _“On the way to the train station a whirlwind came from nowhere. It whipped the tops right of the boxes. **Swoosh!** went Aunt Hetta’s letter. **Whoosh!** The pages scattered. It was an all-gone letter.”_ you take a moment to breathe, clearing your voice. Papyrus is clearly intense at the stories twist as you give him an innocent smile, forging on.

“ _Aunt Hetta live a crooked mile from the town of Neverbee. The townsfolk rarely passed her way much less passed the time of day with tea and friendly chatter. And none had sent a cheery word by way of card or letter. She was a lone, lone Hetta. By her mailbox sat Aunt Hetta. She sat in her carved rocker, with a pocketful of crackers and a pot of peanut butter. She rocked and watched around the clock from Monday until Sunday – waiting for the pleasure of a letter from my mother.”_

 _“She rocked in fall and winter, through the spring and summer. The days again grew shorter, but there was no long, long letter. She pleaded with the post-man, “_ Just a small one or a thin one?” _How she longed, longed, longed for **any** letter.” _

_“She ate peanut-buttered crackers to kill the pangs of hunger, but her heart still ached and hungered for a letter. Where **was** the missive from her sister? How could it has missed her? She’d kept a hawk’s watch on the mailbox since a year ago September!”_ Papyrus looks intrigued by the illustration of Aunt Hetta _literally_ turning into a hawk munching on crackers atop her mailbox.

“ _December’s storm clouds gathered. Aunt Hetta watched and shivered. The wind howled loud and bitter. The dark skies dumped a blizzard. It was the **wrong, wrong** weather to sit waiting for a letter. In her frigid shawl Hetta hudled, bone chilled and befuddled.-_ “ Before you can continue, you catch the pun as Papyrus gives an alarmed groan but urges you to continue. _“White flakes danced around her; soon all was covered over. Mailbox. Rocker. Peanut butter. And, of course, Aunt Hetta.”_

_“All was silent. All was still. Then slowly, from a whitened hill, peeked the head of – yes – Aunt Hetta. She was beaming like the sun and staring cross-eyed at **her letter!** ”_

_“One evening over tea my mother read to me a fat, fat letter from Aunt Hetta :_  You might say that I have been a bit under the weather. I thought it was a snowstorm. But it was your “airmail” letter! Such a long, long letter. The town was in a dither. It took three days together, with snowplows and a tractor. I am told the ‘midst the rumpus the postman said “Great Zeus’s thunder! What’s become of Hetta Pinkus? She was sitting by her mailbox. She must be six feet under!”

“Through the vineyards, through the groves, the townsfolk rushed in droves. Headed by the doctor – and followed by the preacher – a posse of emergency was coming out to rescue me! Plain to see, ca-tas-tro-phe draws good folks together. I felt like a ce-leb-ri-ty, instead of a non-entity. Like looked a lot, lot brighter!”

“I said “ _Thank you!_ ” to the rescue team. “ _Your concern is quite flattering. But I’ve suffered no great harm. My sister’s letter kept me warm.”_ As the townsfolk shoveled, the postman winked and chuckled, _“That’s what I’d call writing up a storm!_ ””

“Fifty children stacked the pages (you forgot to number). They piled them in the haymow, stored them in the silo. They filled the springhouse and the mill, the granary and the still. It **was** a long, long letter. I planned to sit down with your letter, catch up on the news. But in the dis-com-bob-u-la-tion of my recent situation, I have lost me spectacles.”

“I cannot read your long, long letter! Fifty children have been rummaging through attic, house, and cellar, looking for my glasses. But perhaps it doesn’t matter…”

“…for now I have one hundred eyes! But, best of all, I re-al-ize this town is filled with caring friends. I’ll never feel alone again – thanks to your long, long letter.” Shutting the book with a proud thud, you stretch your neck from craning to read and show the illustrations to Papyrus. He, however, had drifted off into a sleep, muttering ‘nyehs’ under his breath. Pleased with yourself, you leave the old book on the stool as a form of donation to his little collection. You don’t know what strives you to do it, but you push tuck Papyrus into the sheets while he returns confused but grateful wiggles to the warmth sticking around him like a little cocoon. Giving another stretch, you reach over to the door while flicking the lights off in Papyrus’ room. You’d hardly noticed the shadows looming within beforehand.

“Night ya little weird-bones.” you whisper, easing out the door and shutting it as silently as possible before heading off to your own sleep.

…

…

…

……snrrrkkk.

Sans steps out from the shadows of his brothers room, trying to remain quiet still as he looms over his dormant brother. It took _a lot_ of willpower to not break into hysterics. The book was making puns for him! The way you read was ridiculous but sweet in its own way. Papyrus was utterly enraptured with your performance despite the absence of the usual brother. He’d felt terrible leaving so suddenly, but it was important business that couldn’t wait ‘til morning. Slipping the story into the shelf, he returns to his brothers side. He’d walked in quietly and loomed in the shadows like a creep. He certainly felt threatened and protective of his brother, but the unique way you spoke and acted was completely different from the stuck up _bitch_ he’d been dealing with.

“maybe there’s no **bone** to pick with her after all.” he whispers, patting Papyrus’ covered form. Even in his sleep, Papyrus growls in distaste to the pun. Sans snickers again, gives a loving pat to his brothers shoulder, and heads off to a sleepless sleep.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Referencing that book!  
> "The Long Long Letter" by Elizabeth Spurr, Illustrated by David Catrow. First Hyperion Paperback edition 1997. Hardcover edition.  
> Yeah - referencing~ If you are wondering why I picked this certain book :  
> A. Papyrus seems to be one without friends back in the underground, thusly he didn't receive an abundance of letters unlike his very popular and well-known brother. The book reminds me of Papyrus, that even without the letter, he has those around him.  
> B. It was on my shelf when I was hunting for something to incorporate o3o  
> C. ...A is mostly a lie. A happened because B happened.
> 
> XD
> 
> Please leave a kudos and some comments! Love some encouraging (or helpful......slightly mean isn't denied here.) comments.  
> [ Visit my Tumblr! I TRY to keep it up-to-date with Post-Times...TRY...](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/blbf-fanfic)


	8. Time for Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter to start getting closer to the juicy bits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine this is a steak grilling over a low flame and you need to be very patient for the perfect juices. I am that flame, the story is the steak, and its juices are starting to show ever so slightly. 
> 
> God I just couldn't write this chapter. It killed me inside everytime I tried to write something.   
> Sorry for over a month of waiting and such a die-down chapter.   
> SORRY!

You don’t recall much of your night nor morning. You shambled back to your portion of the house, up the staircase, and collapsed right into bed. Waking up wasn’t your option – It was Undynes. She was the only one whom you demanded explanation to why you were dragged and standing in the middle of a field, sleeved tank—top and shorts with hard boots while she wore a slacked and ripped t-shirt with cargo pants, jumping and jabbing at the air and barefoot. You refused to ask the odd composition structure of her feet. A ways behind you everyone seemed to be settled onto a picnic blanket as you rubbed the exhaustion from your eyes. Mid-yawn, Undyne began groaning in frustration.

“Uggghh c’mon!!” she bites as you stretch and try to become more aware.

“Undyne. What the hell are we even doing heeereeeeee?” Your need to stretch gets the better of you and your final word follows your relief. More aware of your placement, it’s a deserted grassy field surrounded in pines and maples and you can’t hear the bustle of the city or anybody. The mountain isn’t far from view either – you’re likely located somewhere on the opposing side regarding the lengthy car-ride you were constantly drowsing off on.

“Training!?” She makes it sound obvious, looking at you with confusion.

“I’m sure you are aware that I’m not allowed to use magic.” you quirk an eyebrow, lazing back and just seeking to drift back off into sleep.

“Oh please I already asked Asgore! If you got concerns ‘bout this Zebb guy, how the hell can _I_ be proficient if I don’t understand his ability?!” she argues.

“Undyne. In short, he can manipulate invisible fire missiles to land at-most a mile away despite being a physical use mage.” you relent back, wanting nothing but to curl back up into a pillow with another needy yawn. The scent of food from the picnic wafts through the steady wind and churns your stomach. “And isn’t it a little unfair that I haven’t eaten or slept enough?” you grumble miserably.

“Pulling excuses so you can chicken out?!” she barks with a gritting grin.

“ _Chicken_?” you growl, though its completely playful. You know she is getting to your nerves on purpose, trying to agitate you into fighting. You allow it whole-heartedly and decide to let this play out.

“Ya heard me, or you goin’ deaf?” Her stance changes as she allows he knees to bend further, a cobalt spear materializing in her fist.

“Deaf or death – which would you rather?” you giggle, standing to her sideways and beginning to manipulate the energy around you.

Without another word, Undyne takes the first steps. Its brisk and forceful as she breaks the distance in a near heartbeat. You lean past the lunge of the tip, pushing it forward and away from your body as you spin against her back and leg sweep her feet out of her. You intended for her to land backwards yet her forward momentum was so incredible she went forward and right into a plume of dandelions that scatter their wishes about.

She is quick to push herself up, wipe the fluffs from her hair and brow and reposition herself with an enthused grin, but you hold up a hand in pause.

“You’re going about this all wrong. I didn’t even need to use any energy for that. I need you to go out as if your life is on the line before I can gauge what you need help with.” You grumble with a sigh. Its necessary but your sleep deprivation is getting the better of you. Undyne, however, seems utterly thrilled she can ‘pull out the big guns’.

Before you can manage another glance or word, the thin blades of grass are coated with dots scattered across the earths soil – the dots gleam a neon teal and hum with vibrating energy. Cautious of the specs dancing near your feet, you sidestep them all to only witness a barrage of spears fling from the ground and upwards in an attempt to skewer you. Watching on in minor surprise, your soul jumps free from your body and is painted entirely green – stuck in Undynes distant grasp. She doesn’t seem to falter any less as a ring of javelin spears appear from thin air and encircle your soul with a homing detection as it cycles closer. Weaving between the thin blades is almost like a roundabout dance and you catch a hint of Undynes frustrations as another set of the ground spears materialize before your face.

Finally stepping up to the test and giving Undyne her own situation, you channel your magic into the earth around you. Once you clear the danger zone, you thrust an open palm into the earth beneath you and expel positive energies within. Milliseconds later, the single area of Undynes placement is expelled as the earth juts upwards and forces her into the air. Taking the opportunity to draw water from a patch of long grass and tuning it around your arms similar to vambraces, you lunge forward while she descends. She seems adjusted to falling and you give her an extra pull to throw her off as she plummets feet first to the ground. While she stumbles into awareness, you lunge forth and begin jabbing at her chest and upper arms. She is relatively quick and manages to avoid and dodge the majority of your attacks, save a few shots to the lower chest cavity.

This battle sequence repeats a few times – Undyne throwing a seemingly infinite amount of spears that can materialize from nearly any surface, you rushing towards her while dazed and taking advantage of her openings, and a little mixed kick-boxing. One instance she surprises you with a hasty back attack and you jump through the void, reversing time by mere seconds, and coming out behind her for yet another leg sweep that has her flat on her ass and expelling the air from her lungs.

“Y-You friggin’….cheater…” she rasps; her breathing is heavy and soul pounding yet her smile is uncontainable.

“Hardly. I thought I was preparing you for Zebbulon? He has free manipulation over the void – you _need_ to know and watch your back on the double.” you reply, out-stretching a hand to assist your sparring partner back up. She accepts it after a brief moment of contemplation and you assist her to her feet. Once up, you both wordlessly relax and take the brief moment to gather yourselves.

“I’ll admit – you got some skills.” Undyne huffs and plops herself against a lone tree. You move beside her for the shade it obliges.

“Hah. I barely did anything special.” You admit as she gawks.

“How the hell are we supposed to train if you don’t come at me!?”

“If I came at you with more power then in my restraints, you would _die_.” You mutter, sweeping your hair back. She laughed heartily, taking it as a mere fib.

“When’d you become all high an might, hmm?” she quirks and eyebrow and jabs you playfully with her elbow, though the force behind it knocks you off balance; the interaction only fuels her guffaw. Sighing, you can only manage to think of one breakthrough to make your point. Leaning back to look past Undyne, you gaze with a hard intensity at the beast known as the King of Monsters.

“Asgore.” you call out as he turns his head. You would never believe this gentle giant to be anything short of vicious and deadly if you hadn’t witnessed it yourself. “Up for a round two?” You ask cryptically. You aren’t expecting him to reply, only to reinform Undyne of past achievements not your own.

“…Very well.”

You don’t know whether to be dumbfounded, terrified, or ecstatic but you jump to your feet as Undyne takes for the dumbfounded route while her king approaches with ease.

“Just sayin’ this now – this isn’t for a fight fight. Its to prove to Undyne I could whoop her if I wanted.” You inform, not wanting to waste his time. The rest of the picnic has instantly become engrossed in the activity. You catch the hint of a nod from him before he summons forth his astounding trident. His posture settles into broad and bulky as his grip intensifies; his eyes are shrouded and unreadable. You yourself summon your scythe to your side, the blade passing your face to reveal your own intensifying eyes as the wheel begins to spin. A battle paused in time on the brink of erupting once more. To the giant you bow – a sign of respect as he follows suit, though its more of a hunching over. He is stiff; unused to battle.

“Asgore. I _implore_ you to seek my death during this fight. This battle was cut short all those centuries ago. I will follow in my ancestors footprints, and this will be decided. Once it is decided, we can move on. The past will be gone. Finally, you will live for _today_.” Your words seem to have an effect on him as he briefly brightens up. He swings his trident wide and grasps it between his enormous paws, his stance changing in a mere moment as he readies himself.

You don’t waste anytime propelling forward with extra juice in the initial jump. About seven feet out of his reach you jump into the void and appear behind him ready to behead the heart king but it doesn’t connect as he allows the swing to pass over his horns. He brings the blunt spiked end of the trident backwards; aimed for your guts. You’re pulling yourself to the ground with a gravitational pull to let it sweep past. Once grounded with a tremble you itch and scratch the negative energy within you and seek to uppercut the king with a direct electrical volt. Right before snagging his beard and lower jaw he grips your wrist and raises you up as the bolt discharges directly into the sky. You’re body is rag-dolled along the field as you use your scythe to instantly cease your careening.

The battle certainly doesn’t die down based off the distance. A volley of seering flames erupts and rushes towards you in varying arcs as you cling to the ground. Steeling your foot to the base of the scythe and forcing a harsh propelling of the jets, you air strike at the king while putting that same electric energy through your blade. He defends the attack with his trident and sparks fly between the clashing as you pressure yourself more into the follow. He thrusts you backwards and into the ground as you both dual it out with a test of strength; his teeth gritting together as he wills himself stronger. His fuzzy muscles bulge and you sling yourself away instantly before his eyes flash an array of blue and oranges and he swings at the air. Taking a moment to steady your breathing and change the pacing and innerworkings of your energies, you feel the air around you solidify as you breathlessly stand on the edge. Your fists clench around that energy ball and slam it into the earth as it tremors and breaches with spurts of fire. You watch him struggle to keep his footing and avoid the flames as you pursue his slight retreat. The flames only **fuel** him as an incredible series of his own pyres are hurdled at you erratically. It singes your shoulder as you dance about and dodge past all his attacks while pushing forward.

He can’t stop the contact as you barrel into him and you both flop to the ground. In the first instant of recollection you have you straighten out and ready your scythes blade beneath his neck as he gazes at you with impressed surprise. You can’t help but gulp in air and laugh at the situation as he has his trident also poking back right into the location of your soul; the tips piercing with thin droplets of blood adding to the redness of your shirt.

“What the hell did I say about not letting this by another tie for another time?” you grumble, using your free hand to snatch the trident and pluck it off your skin as you pull your own weaponry into retreat. You followed in your ancestors footsteps; you equaled your power to his own, merely used it differently with expelling. Keeping on that constant scale was taxing enough as it was. You step off the giant as he sits up and checks you over, suddenly fearful of the damage caused.

“Relax ya furball – I’m fine. Cut or burn here or there; nothing monster food wont basically heal up by itself.” You reassure him. You would offer a hand for the gentle giant if you didn’t know ahead of time there was no way you could pull him up to his feet. Merely sitting up his horns nearly reached the height of your head. _Sitting up_. Once he gets up to his feet you assist with dusting off the soil that clung to him and his shirt that has a thin rip here and there.

The first to approach the littered field is Frisk who barrels into Asgore who gives an amused chuckle and slings a paw around the childs back in reassurance. Undyne and Papyrus surge forward in amazement to the skills of their king and seek stories of old in detail while you hobble over to the picnic blanket.

Toriel and Alphys are in ladylike sundresses while Sans has his hoodie tied around his side and is asleep with a quantum physics book resting over his sockets. Alphys maneuvers closer to Toriels side as you abruptly plop down onto the blanket and lay back with an exhausted groan. The tips of the trident had pierced you further than you had initially anticipated and the pain was catching up in your renewed groggy state. Running dry since the start of the day thanks to failed sleeping, lack of food and the recent outlet of energy left you with barely enough concentration and energy to force into regeneration.

“Can-Can someone give me monster food? I don’t even care if its Papyrus’ spaghetti, just something with a healing factor?” You plead to the sky with exhaustion. A few agonizing moments of silence pass before to your own surprise its Alphys who shyly nudges a plate of banana bread towards you, buttered and all. You give her a brief eye exchange of thanks in silence before biting into the perfected concoction. Even without the healing factor you never doubted Toriels cooking. Salivating over each delectable bite in silence and Alphys offering another with even a hint of excitement. Its when she offers you the drink that you look at her questioningly. Alphys was always shy and reclusive around you yet every item given she grew closer and closer, confidence somehow building despite her shaking. Giving a suspicious glare you down the drink with immediate regret. Theres a difference between sugared, sweetened and vomitingly sweet. This was the latter. It was down too quick to take it back as the thick taste danced over your tongue, coughing on the beverage slightly as you muffle out the taste with the banana bread that resurrected your taste buds from the overload.

“Compliments to the chef. Toriel you _really_ shouldn’t let anybody have that drink – its _way_ too sweet. I nearly choked.”

You blink a few times, surprised with your sentence. It was the truth, yes, but you planned to let her down easy and merely inform her it was a tad sweet for your liking. Toriel seems too invested in her book as she looks at you with her glasses blocking the glint in her eyes.

“Oh, Rea, I didn’t make anything! Everyone else insisted on the task to supply me with a break. I believe Alphys made the drinks and the banana bread was……Sans?” She hints a mirthful smile toward the skeleton as you see his grin grow. You hesitate on the next bite as you see the shit faced skeleton peer past the book as you make direct contact and take a large bite from the bread. _God_ it was incredible to say the least.

“goin’ a little **bananas** over there, smalls?” Sans cracks a joke that instantly makes you want to spit the delicious treat out. How _dare_ he ruin your mood while munching on banana bread!

“Its really friggin’ good.” you awkwardly admit and clamp a hand over your mouth. _I didn’t mean to compliment him!!_

Sans sits up properly and Alphys is definitely more fidgety then normal.

“assumin’ you mixed the barbiturates and scopolamine in?” He asks casually, settling the physics book to the side where you notice a slight smaller jokes book hidden inside.

“I-I-It wasn’t e-easy…” Alphys admits with hesitance as you look to both of them. You glance between the both of them, trying to elaborate on those specific ingredients. Then it hits you like a bag of bricks connected to a train.

“You truth drugged me.” You practically whisper, glancing back at the strange drink. “Toriel. Toriel. This is why we don’t let scientists cook; I have been drugged!” You cry out silently in slight alarm; instantly hoping you can keep your mouth shut. A heaviness envelops your arms that are forced behind you and you’re forced to bite down on your lips.

“Alphys, Sans, this is awfully rude!” Toriel barks in retaliation as Sans merely shrugs towards her.

“hey, its already happenin’; might as well learn what we can.” He supplies smoothly.

“Oh that’s _rich_.” You grumble freely, regretting everything and more.

“O-Okay. W-What is your real name?” Alphys begins the quizzing as she pulls out a pen and paper. You would be informing Asgore of this situation once the proper chance arose.

“I don’t have a name.” You admit instantly. Its not a difficult question. They both sort of just stare towards you in confusion. Sans tests the workings.

“do you hate me?” He asks with sincere curiosity as you will your mouth shut despite the incessant pull to chatter.

_Don’t you say a word. NOT a fucking word!!_

“I don’t.” _Fuck you._ Your internal screams could likely be heard across the void.

“seems t’ be workin’…” Sans grumbles in unsureness.

“W-Whats your original haircolor?”

“White.” What was with the gentle questions? Was dosing you with components contained within truth serums the only way they understood to _bond_?!

“If you were instructed to seal us back Underground, would you?” The harsh tone Toriel jumps in with as she looks directly into you is unsettling and Alphys seems surprised the queen would ask such a risqué questions out of the blue. You feel your hesitation boiling, trying to discover your own truth.

“I….I don’t know.” You admit hesitantly as you fiddle with your fingers behind you.

“Can you elaborate, please?” She seems much softer, almost giving off her pity for you telepathically.

“I…I am merely a puppet. I haven’t had a say in my life for so long that going against my instructions……I don’t know what would become of me. If I refuse their final decision and you all remain safe, I have the high likelihood of being abducted back and used simply as a breeder for the remainder of my time. If I agree and it entails you all going back behind the barrier, it will be done. I can guarantee that.” The few last words have Alphys hunching over into defeat and Sans has trouble looking away from you with angry intent. “However………..I have grown somewhat attached to you all in such a short period of time, despite my rules of being nothing but an unfeeling shadow. My decision will likely be straining on my mentally and emotionally.” you grumble, scratching your head.

“OOoohhh finally gonna explain what that whole ‘breeder’ shin-dig s’bout?” Undyne purrs behind you as you flinch forward and glare at her respectively, your hands free to shut your mouth before trying to respond to Undyness curiosity.

“What _is_ a breeder? Is it another word in mage language?” Toriel asks in complete honesty, that tension from before completely drained away with her relieved smile. She must have found solace in your words. You force yourself to shake your head no and cover your mouth from mumbling the truth. Merely speaking of the fate was bad enough. Undyne tries to yank your hands away from your face and you struggle against her.

“Now what is going on?” Asgore booms as he and Frisk return hand in hand. The sight pleases Toriel as Papyrus settles down besides Sans and Alphys who gave up their little ‘interrogation’ due to the increasing company.

“Rea here keeps mentionin’ her havin’ ta become a breeder and she won’t. Spill. The. BEANS.” With every directed word she gives a harsh tug at your forearms as you relent. You both are pulled back with her force and gaze up into Asgores horrified eyes.

“Th-….The mages…….they still do _that_?” His teeth are grinding against each other as he looks down to you. You feel the sins of your past crawling over your back in an instant.

“I-I can explain-“ Before you can even manage to finish the sentence Asgore snatches the collar of your shirt and hoists you away from the picnic blanket quickly. Once far enough away and with the insurance that nobody is near enough to listen in, he settles you feet first before him and holds each shoulder.

“Force breeding was _supposed_ to be illegal.” He growls; all knowing. How could he not? The ‘breeding’ program was in short a deadly torture sex program invented by the mages during the war. When numbers were needed quickly many females were directed into hastened labors; the woman would be allegedly raped and impregnated, passing their magical genes on to their increased growth rate babies that were pumped time enhancers. The end-product was iffy and grew up at astounding rates – A baby was born after merely a week, and in another they could easily be 10 years of age. The mages used this system advantageously to extort an increase in numbers with little wait. However, everything fell apart. Females were rarer than males thanks to certain gene mixing, so for every 20 male babies there were 1-2 girls. The chemical pumped into the womb that enhanced time also enhanced the degrading of the womb itself. A woman in her mid 20’s could have a 90 year olds reproduction and organ system. It was ensured slow killing as they broke down from the inside; the medications and magic applied merely drove them insane in lust and fear. The chemical later named Samulis was underlined as a form of torture, however, the practice continued. It was the reason for the large lack of female mages during your generation – you and Mirage were currently the only ones alive. Likely they held hopes that if the procedure was performed the odds were in their favor to receive atleast two females to outweigh the sacrifice that was seemingly _required_.

“It _is_ , but, like, I don’t have _any_ say what they use me for! _Especially_ if I return as a traitor!” You can feel yourself trembling at the mere thought. Asgore clutches your shoulders tighter. He _saw_ the product on the field – loose wild canons who sought nothing but bloodshed. Their magic wasn’t controlled due to lack of training and time; their basic aging system was shot – far too many passed of old age right in the midst of battle. Through recent years they have discovered a reverse to the effect, however, it is also possibly deadly.

“You are a being of your own. That act is prohibited by the direct council!” Asgore hisses.

“The council is the one who would be directly _sending_ me to that fate if I go against them, Asgore!” You shriek a little too loudly as you continue to shiver in his grasp. “No matter how much I deny it, how I deny nobody owns me, it feels like I have never had a _fucking_ say in my entire life. This isn’t any _friggin_ ’ different!” Your words are venomous but not directed to the understanding giant before you. “Even without betraying their trust it’s likely the living I will make one day. That or give myself other purpose.” you grumble as the earths pull seems more like an embrace as you want nothing but to plummet into the earth around you. The pressure is choking you.

“I need air.” You indicate before spinning on your heels and walking further away from Asgore. The ground is sucking you in while you free your scythe once more and use a vault to projectile yourself into the air above, away from everything and left to the wind. Balancing the unprecise rod out and squaring your spine to align with it, you lean back and lay upon it with perfect balance as your toes curl around the end. It requires little to nothing mentally to merely float in a single location. Up here there is nothing to pull you down; not even gravity.

Moments transition into minutes as you merely breathe. You glanced at Asgore who had retreated to the picnic table and informed everyone of your ‘situation’; save Papyrus and Frisk who went to fetch ice-creams. Laying out while peering up into the abyss blue sky with a few stray clouds, you let your mind wander to your worth. You don’t know how long you lay there; trapped in a trance of your own self-pity and grudge.

“hey.” The sudden closeness of a familiar voice nearly throws you from your perch as your perfected balance falters and you swing your arms and ankles around the pole as you face toward the ground in an instant. Looking up you catch the shocked pupils lit inside Sans’ sockets as he stands atop the scythes flat blade. You grumble and swing yourself back up with ease before settling back into your position. Looking back onto Sans you notice he isn’t actually touching the metal; he has a translucent blue haze before his feet as he levitates a mere inch from the scythe, unwavering the balance.

“Don’t fucking do that Sans.” you warn freely as you grumble back into laying down. He is wordless as you both remain silent and stare into the sky. You spare a glance to the company and see his phalanges and metacarpals twiddling in his jacket pockets.

“was it true?” His voice is sudden as he looks back to you. You don’t bother to look away; caught in your slight stare.

“Gonna have to be a tad more specific.” Your voice is emotionless as you await the obvious.

“’bout the mage breeders…..’bout how its…” Sans seemed lost for the words he sought and you didn’t desire the conversation to extend onwards into personal territory.

“Yeah. Its true.” Is all you supply. You feel the magic flow in the air intensify as a shimmer of blue pops into his socket for a moment. Despite the effects of the serum being worn off, its pointless to lie to the shorter skeleton. He could _smell_ lies despite his lack of nose. The air around you tense with unreleased magic is enough to make you antsy and raring to fight the unfightable.

“Look. Can we end this conversation? There’s nothing to be done about it if it’s the final decision; I’ve already accepted that my fate is beyond my reach. They can control my fate, but my _life_ is my own. That’s why I am here, floating, breathing, _living_. Whether that’s cut short or not isn’t up to me – I’m busy living in the now.” You comment, sitting up and dangling your legs past the poles sides and leaning your hands beyond your body. Sans remains silent as you begin an even descent.

The moment your feet connect with the ground, Papyrus and Frisk scurry over; Frisk left Flowey behind on the blanket for a rest and everyone else is having pleasant conversations.

‘I wanna fly! Can I? Oh please please please _please_ pleasepleasepleaseplease-‘ Frisk latches onto your leg and begins screaming their thoughts with sparkling joy as you chuckle and contemplate whisking Frisk away.

“Did you ask your folks?” you ask quizzically, arching an eyebrow. They nod and give an iffy hand wobble. Good enough. Scooching back to allow sitting room for Frisk and tapping the location, you spare a glance to the equally giddy Papyrus – stars twinkling in his sockets as he stares at the space open behind you. You can clearly tell Sans doesn’t approve of this thought with a subtle shake of the head Papyrus doesn’t pick up as her sight is trained onto the scythes pole.

“Sans come oooonnn. When does he get the chance to fly? If I can take care of Frisk I can sure as hell take care of Papyrus! Look how happy he is!” you point to the blatant joy as he gives intense puppy eyes towards his brother, seeking permission. As the sweat accumulates over his skull, he resigns and submits to losing this battle.

“alright, alright bro…get on.” Sans points onto the seat and Papyrus doesn’t waste any time straddling the pole behind you and pressing his knees into your sides. You can feel his tremoring vibrations and hear the rattling of intense bones as he tries to hold onto his silent patience. You assist Frisk in climbing before you and nuzzling them back and into your awaiting lap, locking your legs to their sides as well to form a sort of locked train in wait.

“Okay! Fasten your invisible seatbelts, keep hands _away_ from the drivers field of view, try to allow driver to leave this experience with their eardrums intact, hold onto your recent lunches and enjoy the RIDE!” You quickly lay out the rules and press off harsher then before as you all jolt into the air. Papyrus finally lets loose a wild scream before he is cackling like a witch and letting both his arms splay out and flutter in the wind beside his cape. Frisk’s eyes are practically bulging out as he seems unsure of the height and presses back into you for more stability, but he is quick to adapt and join Papyrus in silent squeals.

Performing a few freestyle barrel roles that are too quick to anticipate nor reflex for thrills them even more as you let their dangling feet rustle in the trees leaves and kick up the winds flow. You do a few stunts such as stopping while heading directly up and allowing a short free-fall, but the distant glares from their brother and parents are obvious despite the distance and you tone down the thrills. It doesn’t seem to effect either of them; Papyrus and Frisk are merely giddy to be off the ground. You align yourself with the ocean and instantly put everything into the thrusters to zip away and out of sight.

Hunching into the pole for more stability and speed, you all excel and flutter through the wind as you reach the near ocean and kick up the salty water and a few frightened fish. One even lands in Papyrus’ hands as he squeals in excitement.

“I see you _landed_ a fish!” You cackle as the tail flails near your ear and Papyrus can’t help but laugh more. He’s too thrilled to care about the pun. Frisks expression is that of one who is witnessing freedom for the first time – all smiles and thrills but head held high with pride and relaxation. You let the scythe cut into the repelling waves and come across a familiar island. The sealing location from the previous universe.

As if to further prove your point, the waves begin to pick-up and shrieks of fear and astonishment emit from the small island as it visibly tremors and shakes. Not willing to expose Frisk and Papyrus to the danger you speed back in the opposite direction. A few mammoth tentacles jut out from the cascading waves in an attempt to swat you down like a fly; you narrowly avoid one as the company is jostled.

“WHAT IN BLAZES IS THAT?!” Papyrus shrieks, looking back in amazement combined with a hint of concern. Frisk is clutching onto your legs as he spares a glance back as well.

“A technicality. I’m bringing you back and then I will deal with it.” you announce, increasing the speed. Your magic is decently spent by the time you return after the joyride turned sour. Frisk and Papyrus haven’t stopped staring back towards the sea as you reapproach serene opening. The quakes haven’t begun here yet as Sans and Asgore impatiently await your return; likely planning to scold you.

“Rea. You were supposed to stay in sight.” Asgore announces as you begin to lower yourselves down before them.

“Sorry – I just had this little _wave_ of thoughts and I felt like visiting the ocean. Good thing too.” You grumble, letting Frisk off first and into Asgores waiting arms. He must be explaining what you witnessed as Asgore alerts his undivided attention to Frisk. Papyrus jostles off as Sans silently does a quick scope of his body for any issues. Alls he finds is the fading fish. Before you can allow him to question you about the whereabouts you’d left for that resulted in a fish, you snatch up his hood and plop his boney shorts onto the front of your scythe where Frisk once sat.

“Mind if I borrow you for a necessary extermination?” you ask after setting him down. He shoots you a questioning look that turns playful.

“if there were roaches upstairs, that’s an issue for his majesty to attend to.” he jokes, leaning in comfortably now upon the pole.

“Depends. You might get inked.” you inform heartily as you begin to ascend. If he truly wasn’t a willing participant “Weren’t you interested in what happened before I came here?” you lean to his side and give a knowing smile as you zoom off towards the ocean. You wouldn’t bother with the void as this gave you time to discuss strategy.

“didn’t know you would **cal-a mari**.” You halt the scythes propulsion.

“Did you _seriously_ just try to replace ‘call on me’ with ‘calamari’?” You ask with complete honesty as he gives nothing but a lazy shrug to announce he neither knows nor cares. Excellent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave unsatisfied comments below. I have no excuse past writers block. Semi-permanent writers block.


	9. Time to Recuperate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every battle requires recuperation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG I am really sorry about the wait on this. Again, more filler, but a new one will be close behind.  
> Then again...this isn't _all_ filler ;)

Again you stand over the sealing point, doing what you do best. Sans is laid out on the side, huffing and gasping as the sun pelts his bones.

The fight went on and on; it wasn’t simply the fact that it seemed stronger then the last, but you had to keep your eyes peeled on the extra party member you’d foolishly brought along. The true reason you’d bothered to bring Sans was to gauge his abilities and stamina. He certainly was lacking in the latter, but he made up plenty for it with those large draconic skulls blasting and searing their sheer energy right through atleast three of the protruding tentacles. It was safe to say the beast would be too occupied recuperating to try anything similar for another 200 years.

Nonetheless, you add a third seal onto the large amassed stone before grunting and plopping down besides Sans. The ride, the fight, and the cleanup had never been so stressfully straining on you before. After all, you had to cover Sans’ back a multitude of times – he was just leisurely floating there and he would let them come within feet from his face before you had to pull him out. You can’t recount exactly what he yelled at you whenever you did as the fight had you entirely engulfed.

And yet, it was over. You and a monster skeleton who could traverse the ‘Void’ were now simply lying in the sand and sun, thankful the deed is done. Alls you had left were your reserves, and even they were dried out to the point of only a one way trip.

“H-Hey Sans….t-think you can-“ You gasp and huff as you regain your breathing pace and composure only to be cut off with a far too loud snore. Feeling the eager need to glare at the skeleton, your eye only momentarily fills with hatred before you sigh and fixate yourself on the task of rising up.

Once the unsolid ground is beneath your feet and you steady yourself, you nudge his clavicle with your foot.

“Sans? C’mon dude I’m low on magic. Can you _atleast_ teleport us back?” You plead with misery as he simply continues to snore and slumber. Reaching down, you hoist the skeleton up and onto your back with a bit of staggering. Storing away your scythe back into the dimensional phone box, you strain the last of your focus back onto that forest; its clearing, the picnic, your……. _acquaintances._

_Yeah. That sounded horrible……..but I am not their friend._

Using the last of the reserves, you cut open a rift and step through awkwardly. Sans’ body weight is weird – he is certainly heavier than you had anticipated and your arms feel like jello. Never the less, you forge onwards. By the time you reach the picnic area and land underneath a lone tree in the clearing, you are panting out of sync with Sans’ snoring as you struggle to keep your bearings. Looking to the basket with hope for monster food replenishing, you nearly shed a tear of frustration as the sunset pierces your gaze and the group has likely retreated home for the night.

Fiddling with your phone, you pull up the time. 7:13.

_Fucking fantastic._

Sans is still slumped over you as you rest against the tree. The last of your magic wisps away as the doorway begins to close, yet you force your hand inside to keep it open and stumble back. A piercing chill shakes through you as you maneuver back into the Void. You don’t bother to wake Sans – he will surely not awaken nor offer assistance after everything he’d done to help. You alone would carry both your weights as you trudge through. The once tranquil floating you once experienced now feels like swimming through grime and mud. Shutting your eyes, your limbs and chest begin to strain. Magic was the navigation and propulsion mechanic necessary for this treacherous travel method. If you had inadequate control over it, you were as good as dead. Now you simply forced what little could be drained from you into a single destination mark-way – like a guiding string – and followed it intensely.

A sudden loss of air brings you down harshly onto a single knee, gasping and clutching Sans’ legs for useless stability. He grumbles and shimmies, but not enough to stir him awake. You’re practically tempted to drop and leave him here. You nearly do – _he is weighing you down._

But, instead, you push off and continue your line of focus and distancing yourself from the suffocation of your lungs. Using magic without having magic has deadly effects – it pulls the smallest hints from everywhere and anywhere within the body; the blood, skin, organs, hair – _anywhere_. Fate decided to spit into your face as your muscles began to squirm and ache against your will and your lungs slowly yet surely collapsing on themselves.

The sure suffocation brings with a black fading of your vision before your navigation finally ceases. You made it. Now, the hard part – reopening a tear.

You don’t even let the pain process through your mind as you quite literally _rip_ the most jagged and unseemly opening you can and throw yourselves out and into your bedroom. It isn’t long before your blood strains and you desperately grasp for air your lungs cannot hold properly. As you both clatter to the ground, Sans ineloquently is thrown and slammed into the wall as he jolts awake and groans. The tear is still wide as it starts to seep blood through your very skin; a prickling and stabbing pain overtaking your entirety.

“uu _uugh_ – jeez, thanks for a rude aw-“ Sans instantly shuts up as he witnesses you writhing against the ground, gasping uselessly. His boney fingers snap together and the tear zippers shut; your blood finally rushing through your body as you begin to recover. He scrambles over quickly and hoists your upper half into his lap looking you over with an accumulation of sweat.

“shit. _shit_. what’s wrong?!” He doesn’t dare touch you again as you finally catch air and gasp in pleasure and need for oxygen that is, at last, in supply to the demand. You try to make words, though your throat clogged and closed up with soreness and dryness that all you can manage is sputtering and husky gasps. Your eyes feel lidded as he slips out from underneath you and out the door; a clattering of bones and slippers rushing down the stairs as quickly as his legs can fly.

Then, you fade.

 

* * *

 

The enticing wafting smell of noodles and cheese are what finally drags you free from a pit of blackness you couldn’t recall. The sun is baring down over your eyes past the curtains and your body is paralyzed underneath a set of covers and blankets. Fixing your eyes open, a white blur looms over you yet is set in a chair.

It’s Asgore. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days – his beard is shaggier, his eyes are drooping, yet his attention is on you as you manage to flutter your eyes open just a smidge.

“Glad to see you’re alive.” He chuckles. His voice is dry and choked; like he’d been sobbing for days on end. You try to make a smart remark, but your own throat clenches as you decide to simply breathe and make facial expressions. With the rest of your limbs feeling numbingly paralyzed, you wouldn’t be surprised if it really _was_ all you could currently do. Asgore seems to sense your parching throat as he offers a little glass of water with a straw. Sipping quickly, you nearly finish it all at once. You weren’t aware of your own desperation.

Finally finding a thin frail voice, you manage to speak.

“What happened?” You whisper and cough. Asgore seems to have a supply of water as he prepares another glass for you.

“Been a long time since I had seen Magic Desperation. It certainly wasn’t long enough.” Asgore sighs, brushing hair out of your face. Magic Desperation was the use of abilities when you lacked anything to back it up. During the war, it was a means of suicide bombing. You clear your throat, trying to find more strength.

“H-How long was I out?” You ask eagerly.

“Nearly a week.” He admits, offering the glass to you again as you heartily drink. No wonder you were starved. Your muscles begin to relax and uncramp from their paralysis.

“Why didn’t you simply wake up Sans?” Asgore sighs, looking quite parental and scolding.

“I nudged his clavicle and yelled. I almost dropped him once and that didn’t get him to budge. He _literally_ sleeps like the dead.” You groan, sipping more of the water. Only now can you taste the slight sweetening added into the drink – little berries and slices of fruit adding flavor to the usually plain drink.

“While it’s true that he can be a heavy sleeper, you should know better than to push yourself to that extent.” His voice is stern as you simply look towards the wall. Your ankles are coming to. There is a clatter of utensils and the sickeningly enticing scent of noodles and cheese have you drooling desperately. Turning back with slight shame, Asgore understands. He likely has seen enough mages die on the battlefield to know the symptoms that follow.

“Here. Careful; its hot.” He offers a spoon with homemade macaroni and fettuccini with cheese dribbled about and melting together. Adorning it were little bits of parsley, broccoli, and very tiny chunks of sausage. You’re pretty sure you’re crying amidst the first bite and nearly choke on the non-chewed bits.

“Sans actually _ran_ downstairs and told us of your condition……when we got back……………you weren’t breathing.” He admits, letting the spoon fall back into the bowl. He looks down to your chest and stomach, looking for your soul or _something_ until he gives a random shake of his head; likely lost in his own thoughts.

“Papyrus was the first to make it up here. He was greatly concerned when Sans had run downstairs that he took the lead in the mad rush. When I’d made it to the top, he was cradling you in his arms and pressing your stomach; trying to revive or mimic breathing.” Asgores voice is tight as he sets the bowl down and feels your pulse along your wrist. It seemed meaningless, but you offered no resistance as you left yourself to guilty thoughts.

“Luckily-“ He sighs again after a moment, sweeping more hair away from your face. “-Toriel had learned CPR in a short term nursing course.” Asgore grins as you sputter and rake your teeth over your tongue.

“ _UGH_ you let me get resuscitated by Toriel?! Shoulda just left me for dead.” You hack, hating the imagery of the sequence of events playing out in your mind. Asgore finally roars with laughter and pats your head. Though strained, a mirthful smile adorns his face as he returns to spooning food into your mouth. The healing factor was buzzing through your entire body – relaxing and releasing your twining nerves, muscles, and joints.

“Afterwards, we left you in bed. Papyrus hasn’t left your side besides today. He and Toriel have made sure to have a hot meal at the ready at all times incase you finally woke up. Papyrus refused to listen to me about the expected recovery date and just sat here; reading you stories, telling you of his day, offering food and water.” He continued on and on as you shimmied deeper into the blankets with guilt.

“Alright, alright! Stop guilt tripping me and get me healed so I can go hug Mr. Lean Bones for all his ‘help’.” You chuckle pleadfully. It’s not that you aren’t thankful for Papyrus’ outstanding concern. Its simply the matter of you haven’t eaten anything in practically a week, you can’t feel your arms, and he is teasingly waving around a spoon of delish smelling food while rambling you into a guilt trip. Though Asgore obliges and feeds you the rest of the bowl. He leaves for a while and returns with clear left overs.

 _Had they **seriously** made you meals everyday?!_ You did the quick math in your head. That was over 10 meals. While the starved side of you was doing a number of flips of joy about getting to eat _so_ much, it was the rational brain that replied ‘You’re going to vomit up some of it…’.

Though, it was simple oatmeal and tea this time around. Asgore helped you sit up which caused your back to creak and ache in despair to the new position, but you finally were finding strength in your arms enough that Asgore left you to spooning food by yourself.

“So, how long do I have before Boney Health Care bashes down my door?” You question with concern about halfway through your oatmeal.

“Around ten minutes. He just got off of work and Sans is bringing him home. Toriel should be home later so expect similar treatment.” He chuckles, standing and stretching before glancing around the room and making for the door. “If you pretend to be sleeping, he might go easy on you.” With another roaring laugh, Asgore leaves and shuts the door.

For the next seven or so minutes you simply eat, wrap your mind around the sequence of events, and prepare yourself for all hell to break loose. And yet, nothing happens. Fifteen minutes and you have finished the oatmeal. Your legs are still numb and the damage to your arms is no longer clear as day – it simply looks like odd freckles where the blood was sapped through. The simple recollection is gut churning.

About 30 minutes have passed before Asgore brings up another helping of oatmeal, tea, and a crutch. While you still have room for food, you give him a minor thank you and he leaves. The instant he is out of hearing distance you set aside the food and lunge for the crutch. Atleast with the little control and strength still in your arms you could force yourself to the restroom. It’s a total of a ten minute trip – and several of those minutes are spent simply trying to maneuver.

45 minutes in and still no word from Papyrus. You’ve been slowly helping yourself to the oatmeal which sends pleasant warm tingles throughout your entirety. Even if it _is_ your third helping.

Finally, the front door bashes open as you jump in surprise, almost spilling the oatmeal.

“AH, YOUR MAJESTY! WEREN’T YOU UPSTAIRS WATCHING REA’S CONDITION?” Papyrus shouts. There is an ever faint rustling of something you can’t identify as you try to listen in. However, the rustling is covered instantly with the quick paced stomping ascending the stairs. You sigh and struggle to remove the oatmeal from your lap and straighten your hair.

Your door flies open to reveal a very casually dressed Papyrus. He has a white flannel shirt with rolled sleeves on with a red vest to match his classic scarf. His jeans are slightly tattered at the ends and his large boots and gloves have been removed so show his long and slender hands and feet. In one hand is a fresh bouquet that has a few missing petals from the speed of his ascension. Nevertheless, his face brightens with a joyous orange and he throws himself over to the side of your bed, scooping you into his grasp and planting your face into his clavicle with a faint “Oof”.

“YOU ARE AWAKE!! SPLENDID – SIMPLY SPLENDID!” Papyrus cheers, lifting you up into the air for observation. You merely shrug in acceptance. Atleast he wasn’t tossing you like a ragdoll.

“Probably all those stories you told me.” You lie but it seems to please Papyrus as he brings you close again for another rib crushing hug. You try to awkwardly reciprocate, though the grip he has you in doesn’t allow for much free movement so you can only really pat his clavicle. “Thanks, Papyrus. I appreciate it………………..can you put me down now?” You simply wish to stop being crushed in his more exposed ribs.

“AH, YES!!” Papyrus agrees, going to put you onto the floor.

“W-Wait, Pap-“ Papyrus relinquishes his grasp on you before you can finish your warning. Your legs are still paralyzed and non-existent as they fall apart and you face plant directly onto the floor. Papyrus lets out a screech and you hear the air shifting around you as you try and pull yourself up before sneakers squeak on the wood.

“SANS I BROKE REA’S LEGS – I HAVE DONE A TERRIBLE THING – I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE AN ASSISTANT IN THE HEALING PROCESS, _HOW COULD I?!?_ THE QUEEN WILL NEVER ALLOW ME TO OVERLOOK PATIENTS AGAIN!! _”_ Papyrus wails out as he shoves his forearm into his tear bursting eyes. An arm swings around your back and pulls you back to lean against the bed. It’s Sans. He has a grey turtleneck on (which is oddly _very_ suiting…) with his casual black gyms shorts, but he traded the slippers for actual sneakers… _and the same socks!!_

“nah, bro. she’s just so **flappy** to see you.” Sans winks at you and you go to slap him. However, with little strength, it’s only with the power of a pat. You make contact, somehow, but neither of you move as you can only glare in despise as he looks between you and your hand. Dropping it and pushing his arm away, you sling your elbows onto the mattress and focus all the strength you have into lifting yourself off the floor. Sans doesn’t say anything, but you feel momentarily weightless before you find yourself on the mattress at last. You don’t comment on it as you address Papyrus.

“Papyrus, my legs aren’t broken. They’re paralyzed – I can’t feel them.” You admit as he wipes away bright translucent orange tears. They tumble over his more prominent cheekbones.

“A-ARE YOU POSITIVE?”

“Yes, Papyrus. It’s not permanent either; so please relax. I’m fine.” You wave your hand in attempted comfort as he just draws closer. Sans stays silent on the side lines as Papyrus offers you the bouquet. Startled and flattered, you lean forward and accept it. You are nearly positive you are blushing like a madman – you’d never received a bouquet before.

“MY BOSS LET ME MAKE A ‘FEEL BETTER’ BOUQUET! IT ONLY HAS THE FRESHEST LILACS!!” Papyrus says proudly with an orange tint blush covering his face. Examining the lovely bouquet and smelling the arrangement is pleasant as you can’t contain your excitement.

“Papyrus! This is beautiful! Thank you.” You thrilled while leaning your head back to meet his eyes. His own sparkled with prideful stars as you tried to hand it back. “If you could put those in water, I would be _so_ thankful!”

In an instant, he is out the door. Though he is much _much_ slower once out. He must have caught sight of the trail of petals his brisk pace had brought about and was taking ginger care to not lose another. And thus, it was simply you and Sans. Bringing yourself back and against the head rest, you fidget around with your legs and scrunch them towards your body before throwing your sheets back to put your feet underneath. After pulling the sheet back over yourself in comfort, you lean across and snatch your little tray of food. Setting it down, you turn back to the stool it had been placed on to see Sans has taken up residence there and you are just staring into the others eyes.

Guilt. Sleep Deprivation. Worry. His face is lined and traced all along his features with such blame; such ache.

“I’m fine…” It’s much quieter and definitely directed solely at Sans, but he shakes his head.

“smalls…you were out for nearly a week. Tori couldn’t- why didn’t you jus-“

“If you finish that sentence with “why didn’t you just wake me up?”, then I assure you the moment I have enough strength in my arms, I will punch you right in the fucking socket. You were out of as much juice as I was. I didn’t think ahead and check the time to figure out that we should’ve just gone straight home. That’s on my head….You had to run downstairs, Sans. Not saying you don’t run – but you clearly used the last of it in just sealing up that…tear.” You shiver at the thought. You hated unseemly rips into the Void. They were gross and tattered, making it look sinister and defying.

“If you had tried using magic with empty reserves, you would have turned to dust. It was better for me to do it since……..it’s a lot….slower?” You try to summarize as he looks shell shocked.

“slower.” He echoes back in a stunned state. You nod and fiddle with your spoon.

“Mhmm. Magical Desperation. Never really _had_ that problem.” You chuckle darkly as you lift your spoon and oatmeal.

“…you’re not alright.” He speaks suddenly as you flinch.

“Sans, I’m just f-“ “you’re trembling.” He doesn’t let you finish your sentence as he maneuvers his hands around yours to take the spoon, and another to grasp your hand. It trembles and shudders against his boney palms. You have done the maximum best to simply ignore the itching pain tingling over your entire skin. You sigh and oblige as he shimmies the bowl away from you.

Turning your head to face and stare into his hollow eyes, a washing feeling of lies prance about your being.

 _He can tell. He knows better than anyone – how to lie_.

“………… _I’m not fine._ ” You finally whisper. You have to stop it all. What little magic you used to differ your appearance leaks away as you plummet and hiss at the simple contact with the pillow. Your skin stands on end like every inch is surrounded by a bed of needles. Your chest feels empty yet bloated.  Your blood is solid yet flowing. Everything just feels so much heavier…but dead.

Sans takes the initiative to sweep the remainder of the blanket over your body as you twitch and attempt to relax. Each portion of fabric gliding along your skin is like a spark plug; lightning dances across your thin arm hairs and directly into your spine. He certainly doesn’t make the motion quickly, but he also isn’t taking a sick form of pleasure in seeing you writhe.

His smile has vanished. Alls he does is fluff your pillow, pull you up towards more of an angle, and stir the oatmeal before offering the spoon.

“Did I end up in some fantastical different universe where you are nice? Asgore watched over me, Papyrus got me flowers, and you are literally tucking me in and spoon feeding me despite me being capable of doing it myself…..I think I died.” You sarcastically remark looking to the ceiling. Sans must take some type of annoyance with your attitude as he takes the opportunity to shove the spoon to the back of your throat where you gag and nearly choke on the utensil before he pulls it out. As you force down the helping, you can’t help glaring at him. _Theres_ that smile.

“what? yer makin’ a pretty **sour** face for being nothing but **sweet** underneath.” You don’t completely understand the pun, but you can just hear it in his voice. Trying to retort again only receives another shoving spoon. You think he has a pale blue dust covering his skull, but Papyrus triumphantly returns with a lovely vase for the flowers before you can question it further.

“BEHOLD! I HAVE RETRIEVED THE FINEST VASE IN THE HOUS-…..SANS!! WHAT DID YOU DO!?” Papyrus screeches, practically throwing the _very_ expensive looking vase as you cringe every brisk movement he makes with his arms.

“she wore herself out.” He huffs back, looking innocent. You hope he has some type of telepathic powers so he can _feel_ the daggers you are glaring at him.

“REA! YOU NEED AMPLE AMOUNTS OF REST BEFORE YOU STRAIN YOURSELF!!” Papyrus nods, setting the vase down near your bed and standing beside Sans. Atleast while laying down you don’t have to strain to look up to him – it was starting to put a painful kink in your neck. Sans sets the almost finished oatmeal to the side and winks to you before addressing his brother.

_Oh no._

“’ey, paps. you should tell her ‘bout your week.” His voice is light and Papyrus perks to the prospect as he squats beside the bed.

“GOOD IDEA!! WHERE SHOULD I BEGIN?” He mutters, scratching his gloves against his skull in thought.

“start at the park. just **rattle** ‘em off.” He chuckles as Papyrus’ eyes bulge and glare at the leveled brother.

“Papyrus, please punch him for me.” You plead, pressing your head further into the pillow in an attempt to drown out any and all sound.

“YES, BUT THAT IS AN UNBROTHERLY THING TO DO – AND MY BROTHER IS INCAPABLE OF TAKING A HIT FROM _THE GREAT PAPYRUS_!” He points a finger to the sky as Sans begins to chuckle again.

“y’know it bro.” He agrees.

_Isn’t it just the fact if he got hit once he would **die**?_

Papyrus finally picks a position to start – he starts with the trip you took him and Frisk on over the sea.

 

* * *

 

It’s about ten minutes to 11 P.M by the time he finishes. You want to stab yourself to make it end quicker. He goes over everything. _EVERYTHING_. Every second, every little interaction (that he had MEMORIZED), just…..EVERYTHING.

Everyone who’d come home stopped by to check in on you. Undyne nearly gave you a ‘celebratory’ punch, but Papyrus managed to stop and instruct her to not touch. Alphys was much more like a doctor then a visitor – she kept asking your symptoms and trying to diagnose medication that would assist in your recovery. You didn’t mind; she was _actually_ talking to you at last!

Toriel was the worst/best. The moment she burst into the room, she squealed and rushed back downstairs. She came back up with Golden Flower Tea and scones, banana bread, and fresh vegetables. The sentiment would have been sweet if she didn’t practically guilt trip you into eating everything, interrupt Papyrus to fetch more, and repeat that for about an hour. She even offered to help you change! It was appreciated, but awkward.

“And…-yawn- afterwards, we went to the grocery store and….and stocked up on the uh…tea! YES! And then, we drove at the appropriate speed limit on the way home; Me and Her Majesty had a very nice conversation about plants and………and what type of herbal treatments would bring about your SWIFT recovery!! Lets see…….the-there was-“ Papyrus had slowly lost his enthusiasm. He had been talking for practically nine hours afterall. Sans hadn’t budged once from the stool. Everyone had decided to spend dinner in your room, for some reason. Toriel refused your protests and spoon fed you as everyone diverged off the story topic and made simple chatter.

Everything was pretty brief, and now Sans just watched eagerly as Papyrus wore himself out simply by talking. You didn’t blame him – after two days of detailed description you nearly kept falling asleep. Sans kept nudging your mattress with his knee though and with the vibrations more intense for you, it was hard to ignore.

Finally, he caved. Papyrus. He tilted his head a little too far forward and was instantly resting and lightly snoring at your leg.

 

“…Aaaaaaaannddd he’s out.” You whisper appreciatively as you sigh to the heavens. Sans stands and dusts off the crumbs left from the banana bread he’d helped himself to and swings an arm around Papyrus’ large frame before using the other to support his brothers front.

“c’mon paps. it’s past your bedtime.” Sans yawns, helping to stabilize the brother who groggily swayed and muttered the remainder of the story as Sans led him out. With a pleased sigh, you let the sleep finally drag you down into dreams.

 

* * *

 

 _It hurts_.

_You can hear the wind being sliced as she brings down the paddle, followed by your faint whimpers as you clench onto your teeth. Everyone’s stopping and staring. Not out of pity, of course. Everyone knows who you are._

_What had you done?_

_Your eyes are still burning; not simply with orange juice, but the biting tears. The paddles after sting. The teachers words of hatred. You know she would side with the classroom even if one person was against you. You were never shown any kindness._

_Someone’s snickering._

_A moment of clarity washes over you. Anger. Frustration. Sadness………. **Hatred**._

_You can no longer contain it._

_It’s dark._

_“ **BURN HER!!** ”                                                                   “WITCH!”_

_“WRETCHED THING.”                      “_ SEND HER TO THE **COALS**!! _”                                                                       “ **DIE!** ”_

_“BURN, WITCH!”                              “AWAY WITH YOU!”_

_“BURN **IT**!”                                                          “_ **FREE THIS TOWN OF WITCHCRAFT!!** _”_

_Your face is covered._

_It’s hard to breathe._

_There’s smoke._

_Your hands are bound._

_You are surrounded._

_Fire crackles._

_It’s getting closer – the heat._

_“BURN IT!”                                                                                                         “_ SET ITS SOUL ABLAZE WITH OUR FURY!! _”_

_“_ **KILL IT!!** _”                            “KILL IT WITH FIRE!!”_

_“FEED IT TO THE FLAMES!”                                                           “ **MURDERER!** ”_

_“HOW **COULD** YOU?!”                               “BURN FOR YOUR SINS!!”_

_“ **FOUL WITCH!** ”_

_Someone removes the cloth._

_You see it._

_A large stock of wood with a pillar in the middle._

_They are pushing you closer._

_There are people surrounding the wood bundle with torches._

_Everyone has something as a weapon – knives, stakes, torches, spears, pitch forks._

_Closer._

_You can’t find anyone to help you; nobody would even if you pleaded._

_You see them – their corpses._

_Your mother and father._

_What little love you had ever received had only come from them._

_They were gone._

_You were next._

_You were going to-_

_“BURN HER!”                                     “_ BURN THE WITCH! _”                                       “BURN IT!”_

_“_ **LET IT BURN!!** _”                                                                                “BACK TO THE HELLFIRES!!”_

_“SET IT ABLAZE!!”                                             “ **WRETCHED THING!!** ”_

_You can’t struggle._

_They throw you to the pile where you are bound at the stake and blindfolded._

_The rope twists and burns your arms._

_The fire is drawing near._

_A random person from the crowd throws the first torch._

_“_ Enough. _”_

_Everything is frozen. The fire. The screams. **Everyone**. Nobody is moving. _

_You struggle against the restraints – they’re gone. You throw yourself from the pile and try to flea._

_Someone grabs you._

_“_ Heehee _hee_. Easy there, sprout. Show some gratitude I found ya in time.”

_Someone is chuckling. There is an old bearded man holding your arm. He looks ancient. You cant break his grip….yet he seems tender._

“C’mere. Look at me.”

_His voice is stern – yet not scolding. Nobody has talked with such neutrality like this to you in so long. You can’t make out the man much more past your tears._

“This place is cruel. You and I both know – it was an accident, ya?”

_You nod. You can’t form words past your gross sobbing._

“You hate this place?”

 _Nod_.

“Do you have any reason to want to stay?”

 _Shake_.

…..

“Then come with me.”

 

**_Nod._ **

 

 

 

_Death                                    Deathdeath        dead-they’re all dead.                   You killed them._

_“MURDERER!”   Sobs. Its children. Childrens sobs. You are all too familiar with them._

_“_ **Well done, girl.”** It him. The scary man. You don’t like him…….he is manipulative.

“With this, it’ll get yer mind off it fer shure!!” It’s a girl. The only girl. She shares fantastical dreams with you. It’s sweet. She is kind. You mistrusted her kindness in the beginning; you didn’t know people could be so willing and nice.

“………Hey kid.” You forgot his name. He has a big hammer. He sticks near heat. He is always sweating. His muscles are huge. He is huge – besides his head. You nick-named him Tic-Tac.

“ _HeeheHAhee_ -“ It’s the old man. He is cackling again. He is weird and understanding. He knows everything – supposedly.

“ _Come here, kiddo. Come see._ ” He is dead. He wasn’t. He was once your favorite. His hair was like dewed grass that swayed in a constant breeze. He smelled of pine and maple.

_He was lost to the nothingness._

_You couldn’t find him._

_Dead—More Death. Its training.                                                               “MONSTER!!”                    “ **NOOO!** ”_

_There’s blood everywhere. You’re numb._

_“ **MURD** ERER!!”_

_“No…” Your head…_

_“Y_ OU _MU **RDERE** R!!!!”_

_“No, I-“ You can’t-_

_“MO_ NST _ER!” “ **KILLER!!** ”_

_“ WITCH!!”_

_“I’m not!” You cry. Nobody hears you._

_“_ DE ** _M O_** _N!” “ **MONSTER!**!” “W I_ **T** _CH!” “_ MUR _D_ ** _ER_ E _R_** _!!” “K_ I ** _LL_** _ER!!” _

_“E_ VI _L””EV **I** L””E **VIL** T H_IN _G!!” “ B **U**_ **R** _N I N **H** E_LL _!!!”_

_“No!!” Nothing. Your head. Its pounding._

_Fire. Heat. Its hot. You can’t see._

_The flames. They are enveloping._

_You can’t breathe._

_You’re choking. Writhing on the floor._

_Slippers. Pink slippers running by. It burns. You can’t breathe._

_Nobody will help you now. You will burn. Choke on smoke. Burn to ash._

_“hey!”_

**_Don’t come close_ ** _._

_The voice will burn along with you. They are too close._

_“hey, smalls!”_

**_Stay away…_ **

**_Away from me._ **

**_I…….._ **

“Hey!!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**_I can’t control it._ **

* * *

 

You scream. Propelling forward, you scream desperately as you try and find your bearings. You are dribbling with sweat, panting. Somebodies holding your arms. You can’t breathe. You can’t focus your sight; its dark.

“hey! hey, lookit me!!”

There’s that voice again. Your eye burns. Your magic is crackling – the room is buzzing with energy. Things are levitating against your will.

Tossing off the sheets and scrunching your knees close to bury your head into them, you will away the internal fire. Hot. Dark. Pain. You’ve lost control.

“Rea!!”

You know that voice.

Force yourself to twist your head and stare at him. Sans. Pink slippers. Comedian. Idiot. He’s in danger. You are looking right through him.

His eyes go from concern to shocked. Your eye – it’s out of control. It’s scaring him.

_He is afraid of your powers. He should be. Don’t look at him…_

Scrunch back in on yourself. All of your limbs contort and fight your mind. Everything stings and throbs to move. Sweat prickles your skin and stands on edge as you try to breathe and regain control. Your muscles are tensing and scream in pain, but you can’t hear it. You can only hear the chants.

Your bed squeaks and creeks to a new weight. You don’t care. You don’t care until the source pulls you close. They’re hot. His jacket envelops around you, making your hair raise as you struggle against it. It’s too hot. You’re unstable. You must rein yourself in.

A plop of fabric lands on the floor as you are grabbed and pulled. You squeak in surprise as you are settled into a hard lap. Bone arms wrap around you without the plushness covering the majority as it is discarded. Pulling you close, you are pressed in a rough clavicle as a smooth jaw presses to the side of your head. You’re shivering and trying to free yourself; you can’t be this close.

“shhhh.” His voice is smooth and comforting. His grip isn’t restraining – it’s comforting. He starts to rub circles around your spine as you grip his white tank top. It’s white. Stained somewhat, but white. Beside it, his bones are a different white. You force yourself to focus onto it. It was solid and gradient, but somewhat smooth and more grey and yellow tinted. Withered.

“just breathe…” It’s like a tender command as you try and steady your breathing and heartbeat. Hot biting tears roll down your cheeks as you press your face into his clavicle. He gripped you tighter to him in response and nuzzled his mouth in your hair.

“Hot…it’s hot.” You whimper, scrunching his shirt. You make out the windows being forced open with a clatter as the night breeze washes through. It begins to chill and freeze the sweat, but you would rather catch a cold then be stuck in this heat any longer.

“’t’s alright. ssshhhhhh…” He decides to trade one arm off your back and into your hair to caress your skull. Pressing you to his clavicle, you finally begin to snap free of your illusion of darkness. The moons light is poking through and past the curtains. It gives an ethereal glow to the stained shirt and bone. Your muscles and limbs scream in agony to the new stimulation.

You push it all aside and accept the kindness you had grown numb to.

 

* * *

 

You are faintly aware of the shattering of something by your doorway as you force yourself to grumble and rouse awake. Your cheek hurts. A numb pain, yes. Using your accumulated strength, you push off the mattress and sit up, rubbing your tear dried eyes free of crust.

“That’s just _disgusting_ …” A little shrill voice says. Must be Flowey. With a groggy mind, you point a finger in the direction of the voice.

“ _You’re_ disgusting.” _Great comeback._

Giving a few experimental blinks, you finally focus in on the door. Toriel, Frisk and Flowey stand there. Flowey is looking like he is going to vomit, with Frisk contrasting it with speechless amazement and excitement. Toriel is covering all of her face and splitting her fingers to peer through her eyes.

“What?” You ask suddenly, aware these are not typical stares earned in the morning. Looking down, you were, in fact, clothed. _Alright_.

Looking to the side, you propel yourself out of bed with a shriek. Well, attempt. Lying beside and slightly atop you is Sans who has a strong arm grasping your waist. Your front half falls off the beds edge and bashes against the hardwood floor with a dull thud.

“Ooowww…. Sans!! What are you doing in my bed!?” You shriek, trying to pry his arm off you. He growls as he snakes an eye open, tightening his grip.

“ _uugghhhhhh_ this isn’t how I wanted the day to start…” he grumbles, finally relinquishing you as you fly off. Sitting up, he pops a few of his bones into proper placement as he lidded eyes instantly bulge awake to the sight of Toriel and Frisk.

Without a word, he slips through a void rip he makes beneath him on the mattress.

“Traitor!!” You screech, glaring at the mattress. Toriel clears her throat as she ushers Frisk and Flowey out of the room. Once out, she closes the door and approaches with a tapping pawed foot.

“Care to explain?” Her voice is no longer friendly.

 

* * *

 

Toriel couldn’t stop giggling at the prospect of Sans comforting you after a nightmare. She keeps poking at hidden possibilities, but you wave it all off. Once she leaves you alone, you take a long bath where the warm water isn’t the only thing heating up your face.

Sans had seen one of your more weaker moments, and then slept with you. You slept with a monster skeleton……Mirage can _never_ know. You soak for a bit longer until your fingers begin to prune and finally pull yourself out of the sudsy water. Using a towel and drier, you comb through your hair. Toriel had made it aware to everyone that until your magic reserves were refilled, you only needed to change your appearance outside and around non-house members. Alphys was the only one who seemed initially against it – mostly out of unfamiliar fear of your eye. Staring back into the mirror and to your reflection, you ease your mind and atleast camouflage your eyes. Best not to scare her so early in the morning.

Throwing on a simple v-neck shirt and frill ended jeans, you prod your way barefoot downstairs. You bring the crutch just incase; while you had more strength then the previous day, you were still tripping up easily.

You bump into Asgore who is carrying a plate of pancakes with him towards the stairs. It all smells delicious as he is surprised to see you at all.

“Oh my. Why are you down here?” Asgore asks, looking at the crutch.

“I can walk. Why _wouldn’t_ I come down?” You raise your eyebrow as he sighs in agreement. You refuse to stay in your room and be subjected to more stories from Papyrus.

“Very well. Please understand, though, that we have……company.” Asgore whispers, handing you the plate. The maple syrup seeping over the stacks edges smells divine as an arrangement of fruits rests at the top.

“What kind of company?” You whisper back, already forcing yourself to put effort into changing your hair color as well.

“A monster. His name is M-“ “METTATON!!” Papyrus’ voice of surprise shrieks through the house as you hear bone clatter against something solid and a silvery laugh passes through the house over Papyrus’ delighted squeals. Raising an eyebrow, you look back to Asgore.

“He is a star. He was a ghost prior to his new body that Alphys crafted for him long ago. He tends to visit to check in on Papyrus, Alphys, and Frisk.” Asgore grins, leading the way.

“A star, huh? Never heard of him.” You contemplate openly, trying to think. His name sounded familiar, but it wasn’t ringing any initial bells. Your hand trembled slightly as you held the heavier then previously determined pancakes.

“Never ‘heard’ of me?!” A very odd pitched voice that sounds almost auto-tuned suddenly breaks out as you round.

It’s a box. A metallic box with light squares for a face that is on a single wheel and has cartoonish extend arms and Mickey Mouse gloves on. You cannot handle the amount of confusion sweeping over your face as you discern from the chatter Undyne and Sans giggling in the back. Before you can strike up ‘important’ conversation with Sans, the metallic square rolls forward.

“This simply _cannot_ stand!” Refusing your protests, he takes the arm that was steadied on a crutch as you wobble to keep yourself straight. Asgore takes up your plate as you use the frame of the archway to stabilize yourself. The robot held your hand gently and brought it to the center of his flashing lights. He mimicked the sound of a peck and you received an ever so light zap of electricity that gave off a warmth.

“On chante, chère humaine. It’s an honor to be in the presence of such a _lovely_ individual.” The squares on his light panels light up in the pattern of a really badly shaped heart as his purring metallic voice cuts through the usual chatter like a knife to heated butter. You can’t help the stunned uncertainty meshing over your face.

“…Uuhhhhhh…..Hi?” You supply, pulling your hand back gingerly and waving before placing your weight back into the crutch. You can still make out Undynes chortling. Everything just feels awkward. His single wheel whirs as he slowly circles around you. You try to crane your neck to have constant visual on him, which isn’t honestly that difficult seeing as he is a large metallic square.

_Alphys made him?_

“Hhhmmm…. Yess……Yes, yes……you are perfect, darling!” He finalizes, coming to your side. “How would you like to model my brand supplies?” Sans had been drinking something red as he flinches and some dribbles out and onto his empty plate. Undyne breaks down laughing before harshly slamming her fist into the table as she fights tears. Alpyhs looks solemnly disappointed while Papyrus contrasts her with invigorated joy.

“Model?.....Nah.” You finalize. Asgore had gone to the trouble of setting your plate down and leaving – it seems he had work even though it was the weekend. Frisk and Floweys plates were empty and you caught glimmers of his hair and yellow petals zooming between the rooms.

“But, Darling! You have such flowing charisma, a splendor white toothed smile, and an exquisite figure that must simply draw all the attention around you! Why waste such a perfect opportunity?” He pleads as you try to move past.

“Dude, ask me later. Maybe after I eat. Or in a month. But definitely after I eat. And punch Sans.”

Your voice is sweet and dripping with honey, but the last bit is a concealed poison being chucked in one direction. Atleast the guilty party actually looks guilty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Hey, come check out and comment on my Tumblr!! ](https://blbf-fanfic.tumblr.com/)
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> Please leave a comment below! They really just fill me with glee :) <3


	10. Time for Pastries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rea tries getting a job. An odd job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh sweet jesus I AM ALIVE!!  
> Sorry for the HUGE delay on chapters guys - I know you were getting antsy and I was screaming at myself for not getting anything out sooner!!   
> Misery. Just - misery. 
> 
> But here it is. Not really long, but I literally deleted half of this because I had such trouble trying to write this out.   
> I hope you appreciate the time I used to get this right in my eyes - I have seriously lost my punny skeleton touch I swear.

“BE SURE TO NOT STRAIN YOUR MUSCLES TODAY, REA! ONLY REST!” Papyrus calls out with Mettaton leading the way as they both leave the front door with a mass of plans listed out. Sans seemed adamant on the idea of his brother leaving for the majority of the day and possibly not returning til the wee hours of morning, but you couldn’t care less. Papyrus was a grown skeleton – grown enough to have a job. He could take care on his own. Besides, it gave you a chance to attempt to deck him outside the skull for all the shit he pulled. He, however, is still a good dodger and seems to sense your every attempt.

Asgore is settling onto the couch and listening to the news while reading the daily paper with far too tiny reading glasses as you are unsure what to do.

And then he makes the suggestion you get a job. You nearly scoffed at the thought until he brought up the point you were eating the food they paid for and would appreciate a sum since you ate plenty on your own. With a nervous laughter and trepidation, you were thrown out and sentenced to hunt. Of course, he’d sent Undyne and Alphys along for the trip to help you navigate the town.

Alphys had gone back into being reclusive and ensured that Undyne was constantly in the center and her on the inner part of the sidewalk as everyone made their way into the downtown area. You’d managed to resupply enough into your magic reserves to continuously retain your human appearance without strain as the stores come into view.

“Alright! Where do you think we should try first?!” Undyne shouts with excitement while Alphys shies away.

“M-Maybe we could t-t-try the l-library?” Alphys suggests in a faint whisper. Undyne nods in agreement before all of you are dragged along to the nearest library. Which happens to not be monster friendly – you are all thrown out. They apparently are losing business on the account they also don’t accept monster associated humans.

“Rude witch!!” Undyne calls back in annoyance as you twitch to the reminder. You don’t let it plague your thoughts like before as you scope around some more. With a hint of dread and a grumbling stomach, you point over to a certain establishment.

“Why don’t we try there?” You grumble, hoping it won’t _actually_ work. The proof that it didn’t work out the way you planned was the maniac laughter of Undyne as she _literally_ throws you over her shoulder and rushes you into Muffets little bakery. Alphys keeps pace but ensures she doesn’t strain her shorter legs and stamina as you all approach and enter with the tinkling of a signal bell.

Muffet is at work organizing the display case as she peeks up above the glass and grows a wide fanged smile.

“My oh my! Look what the web dragged in! Ahuhuu~” She coos, bringing her body around the counter to judge your body once more. You sighed and cringed – she would hire you in a heartbeat. She’d already explained you would be perfect for the work uniforms thanks to your smaller physique. Looking over Muffets own attire, you dreaded what you would be stuffed into as you sigh in defeat. It was close to home, monster _and_ human friendly so it was more likely to receive both forms of gossip lingering around, it was a pit-stop of safety for Frisks trek to and from school, and you already knew how to get here. It was a solid deal, and you hated every moment.

“Yeah, uh….about that…” You groan, rubbing your neck in impatience. “Are you, I don’t know…… _hiring_?” The words practically hiss out of your tight mouth – you can’t help the disgraceful point you have reached.

Muffet looks like she just won the lottery.

 ------------------------------------------------

Twenty minutes later and all you can do is regret your life. The papers are filled out, application completed and handed in, and she is already taking measurements of your entire body. Ensuring you that the outfit will be ready tomorrow and you will work the day following that isn’t a great introduction as she shoos you out to busy herself with work. Undyne continues to cackle silently as Alphys is clearly lost in her own thoughts. At the very least, you got spider donuts to go.

And the knowledge that there were no employee discounts following the job.

Sending a stray text to Asgore about getting the job is a bit breaking as you need to come to terms with accepting your fate. You all take a small detour into a nearby park as Alphys actually requests showing you around town.

“I-It will help wi-with familiarizing yourself with t-the area…” She commented as she points out peculiar but hinting landmarks.

Within the park are little batches of children scattered and scurrying about under the protective eye of their parents. Plenty of the folks see your little entourage coming the moment you enter the park and compile their children under their close protection or flat out leave without a care to their child’s cries. Undyne clearly disapproves or is offended by the retreating humans, but she doesn’t voice her opinion and instead offers a toothy smile to Alphys. With the majority of the playground evacuated you, Alphys and Undyne meander over to the swing set.

“Undyne!!” A little voice shouts from the distance. Looking off, there is a group of human and monster children gathered in an area with Toriel on the side. Frisk is waving over at your group along with the jumping monster child that lacked arms. It was the one you assisted with their backpack the last time you’d picked up Frisk. Alphys settled down on a swingset to teeter back and forth while Undyne made a mad dash towards the uproaring and thrilled students. You could see the twinge of regret in Toriels face before her maternal mask came over and she watched with delight as Undyne tossed Frisk giddily into the air. Atleast the students didn’t appear intimidated by Undyne; they were lining up to be tossed towards the sky. Settling back with a creak of the swings seat you sway in silence besides Alphys.

The birds and insects screech and create their own bands in the spring swelter. Flower buds are trying to blossom and absorb the sun. A few fresh puddles from a recent shower still remain as giggling children stomp around without a care in the world. Smiling and holding onto the connecting chains, you swing enough to atleast get minor air.

“Th-this is perfect.” You hear Alphys whisper as you slow your swinging to glance over at her. She is watching Undyne from the distance with a faint blush and the sincerest of smiles.

“What is?” You ask. Your voice spokes her as she teeters and nearly slips from her seat. She fidgets and does her best to avoid eyecontact.

“U-Um, w-well, th-the day. The su-sun. Spring…..This.” She weakly gestures around to the serene park setting. You take it in, trying to see things from her perspective. While the monsters had been up here for plenty of time, you supposed that the surface would take a lot longer to sink in. The seasons, the years. The world around them no longer being restrained by darkness and walls. Tilting back in your seat, you look to the cloud bountiful sky mixing and meshing with hues of blue.

“Mmm. I see your point…..Yeah – this is a nice day. It won’t be the only one either. You guys will have plenty; that includes the bad days. But they are still days up here.” You comment, looking to the wood chips beneath your feet and kicking a few from your path.

“I-I-I h-hope so…” Alphys sighs, but there is a hint of relief in her scales relaxation. Feeling her need to let loose some, you exaggerate your leg pumping to swing back and forth and gain her attention. She, after all, hadn’t even tried to swing. It was often freeing. She seems to stutter and then divert her focus into her own legs before giving it a try. Despite her short and stubbly legs, she manages to get some motion and a radiance of pride swells off her for the slightest of moments. After that, it’s just pleasing silence as you sit and allow the wind to catch your hair.

A faint whispering murmur catches your ear along the careful breeze as you faintly twist your head to peer past Alphys’ swinging.

“Honestly – why do they have to be out in _public_?” A trio of women are glaring at Toriels little group as they remain huddled together.

“Poor things. How can their parents allow them to _co-mingle_?” Another woman hisses as the first nods in agreement.

“I’d never let my child near monsters. It’s a death wish.”

“Disgusting, to be frank.” The second chimes in as she and the first giggle in unison. The third seems to have a deeper hatred towards monsters, but you’ve heard enough. Skidding to a stop and vaulting into the woodchips, you quickly circle around her and make your way towards the women.

“Truly the _monsters_ in this town are the people who can’t keep their fat mouths shut and let people live their lives.” You point out as the trio jolts in surprise to your lurking presence.

“ _Monsters_ aren’t _people_. They are a disgrace. Should have been killed off all those years ago.” Its that third woman again – the one with a bit more beef against them.

“Monsters. People. What does it matter at this point? They are willing to pay taxes. They are actually more _forgiving_ then actual people. Hell; they’re even better friends. I think humanity should be the annihilated species. Or atleast you – what have you done for this city? This world?” You scoff with a bit of cheek. This woman doesn’t back down like the others as they try to pull her away – to distance from you.

“Ha! Like you can say anything yourself! What have _you_ done?” She fires back as you crack a grin.

“Me? Me and a skeleton monster dual team _destroyed_ this ancient squid that emerged last week. It was epic. Could have drowned the entire world now that I recall……oh well. Glad we had this little educational experience. Hope you learned to not be a bitch in public.” You chuckle with a wave from behind. You faintly hear the woman struggling in her friends grips as she tries to come at you.

“You _freak_!!” She hollers back with a huff and storms away from the park with the other women in tow. Returning back to the park swings, Alphys had watched the entire interaction with a hint of trepidation. She frowned upon seeing your face.

“Wh-whats wrong?” She hesitantly asks as you plop yourself back into the seat. Your past swirls into view and towards your eyes before you shake it off vigorously and blot your eyes with the base of your palm.

“Yeah. Fine – I’m fine.” You assure her as you stare off into space. It’s a reminder of the past, in complete honesty, but that’s none of her business nor concern. A hand reaches and grasps your shoulder as you spark with surprise. Reaching back to vault the unknown person from behind, their presence seems to have vanished from thin air before Sans appears beside Alphys who’s little heart must stop in surprise. Giving a rough groan you stare back at him.

“Rude to sneak up on people.” You quickly comment, refocusing back onto the swing.

“you callin’ me a **sneaker**?” He chuckles before squeaking his shoes against the sidewalk. Leaning against the swings support poles, he stares ideally over you both. Alphys gets a little chuckle out of it atleast.

“Di-did you finish up w-work?” Alphys asks quietly as she gradually slows down.

“Sans works?” You sarcastically chuckle; you know full well he has more than one job. He doesn’t comment on it but instead offers Alphys a simple shrug.

“’Bout ‘s finished with it ‘s I am Fluffy Bunny.” He chuckles while looking back in the distance at Toriels little group. She and Undyne seem to have simply begun co-teaching the class. You all share a brief smile before you roll your head and pop your neck joints.

“As nice as this day is, I’d like to head home. Do I need permission?” You joke as you lean back in your seat.

“N-N-No. Yo-you can go ahead i-if you want.” Alphys replies which is your signal to jump. Rocketing back and forth to get ample amount of propulsion, you throw yourself off at the highest peak and launch yourself into an in-ground portal you make at the last moment. Following it through with simply the last used gravity as your guide, you finally make it back.

And into a tree.

Everyone is settled down at the dinner table as you fidget with your fingers. Your hands had been cut to shit thanks to the branches you’d descended into, but a little healing magic and nobody could tell the difference as the food is handed around. You are already salivating at the divine smell coming off the lasagna dish along with the freshly baked garlic bread and snail pie. You hadn’t tried the snail pie yet, but Toriels cooking and baking skills seemed trustworthy enough that you scoop up a slice.

“NYEH-HEH-HEH!! YOUR MAJESTY, THIS LASAGNA IS EXCELLENT! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM HONORED YOU ATTEMPTED SUCH A RESPECTED NOODLE DISH!” Papyrus exclaims as he nearly eats an entire square. He seems to find his manners and tries desperately to cut the slice without it cascading apart.

“Why thank you Papyrus. I had some extra time and decided it would be nice to give it some extra time.” Toriel has the faintest bashful blush covering her face as she helps Frisk and Flowey with their plate portions. Frisk has a little bruise on his arm and face, beside a fitting cut. Atleast you presume it – he has a band-aid covering his little cheek.

“So, uh, Frisk. What happened?” You question, indicating to their cheek. Frisk just absentmindedly pokes at their broccoli and potatoes.

“Oh – he and Undyne played a little rough. He’s also been very clumsy recently. Sweetie, I can heal them if you would like.” Toriel offers, extending a loving hand toward her child. Frisk actually shies away and nudges closer to the opposing side of his chair. Flowey is of few words, but the brunt of the denial is a little saddening to Toriel as she cautiously withdraws her hand. You don’t falter as you stare at the child. _Into_ the child.

It pulsates. Their venom pool.

Swiftly you stand and circle around the table before scooping the child over your shoulder.

“Sorry. Gotta have a chat with Mr. Liar.” you mumble as you quickly bring the child outside. He tries to break free of your grasp which is pitifully laughable, but you certainly aren’t enjoying this. Setting Frisk to the side you try to relax him as you feel the channeling of his flow. Its small – but definitely building. Squatting down to the childs height, Frisk refuses to make eye contact.

_He is quite terrible at keeping secrets…_ You giggle inside your head before regaining your focus.

“Frisk, I’ll admit you can be clumsy, but lying isn’t your strong point.” You gently chuckle. Placing your hands over his small shoulders he cranes his head to meet your gaze with guilt rubbed eyes. They contain the tiniest hint of tears.

“I can help you. Dispel it – your anger, your fear, your sadness, your _pain_. You know you can rely on me when it comes to magic. But I can’t help you until I understand whats happening to cause this. Your venom pool is bubbling up kiddo; you keep going like this and there aren’t good endings. Best to burst when small and harmless.” You instruct. It seems to be just the trigger as Frisk begins to sniffle and shudder.  

“ _School…”_ He tattles over your private channel.

“ _What happened?”_ You plead. He comes closer and clutches onto your shirt before burying his head into your shoulder.

“ _The kids. They pick on MK. They push him around. I step in and they push me around.”_ He relays as you grumble and hug Frisk close.

“ _Why haven’t you told your mother? Weren’t we getting better at letting family know when you are hurting?”_ You ask as guilt seems to rise through his being.

_Likely not the best time to be guilting the kid._

Extracting Frisk from your front, you lean back onto the stone path and place Frisk into your lap.

“ _Alright Frisk. Thank you for atleast telling me. You should know you can talk to me about any of this stuff – the stuff you can’t tell your mom or dad. But this will help; if I know whats effecting your emotions and what-not, I can help you keep control and teach you how to release that negative energy.”_ You explain with a tiny smile. “ _We are going to do a little exercise – releasing that energy now before it gets a chance to build is a lot safer. I just gotta let your parents know, alright? Its best to not do this here so we’ll need to take a quick fieldtrip.”_ Patting his head and with a sniffling nod you extract the child off your lap and dust yourself off before heading inside.

“ _J-Just-_ “ Frisk calls as you pause and wait for the rest of the difficult sentence. Frisk fidgets quietly, not bringing anything else up. You sigh and give and return to the child to give him what you hope is a reassuring pat on the head before slinking back inside to somehow explain to the parents how you need to pull their kid through an endless existent plane just to help him cool off.  

Returning inside, there was light laughter at the dinner table and Papyrus keeled backwards over his seat covering his face with his mitts. Sans was almost instantly the center of the blame, but that never seemed to change. Sidling over to Toriels side you give her shoulder a light tap of intrusion.

“Oh! Is everything alright?” She asks warmly. Her smile seems to fade as she notices Frisk remained outside instead of returning in for dinner.

“Uh, yeah, he just needs to, y’know…” You rub the back of your neck as you make a little explosion gesture with your hand and pop your lips. Toriel understands immediately and  flinches in her seat, eyes dilating. “Hey – hey hey hey. He is fine. We just gotta take a little road trip; for safety measures.” Toriel stands immediately and excuses both you and her to the kitchen; away from the chatter. Pulling you to side, she speaks in a rushed and hushed voice.

“Safety measures?!” She hisses as you cringe.

“Look – remember earlier about that whole explanation of how I popped? He is on his way to that stage. We are nipping it figuratively in the butt before it has time to fester.” You explain as Toriel drinks in the new information. Tears prickle into her eyes as she covers her snout.

“How could this have happened….” She whispers past a faint sob. The only condolence you can offer is patting her shoulder, but swiveling your head around to the outside once more resets your priorities as you return to the backyard. Frisk is waiting patiently as you walk to the side of the child. Hoisting Frisk into your arms like a toddler, they seem hesitant as you draw out an arm.

“Close your eyes and hold onto my neck. Don’t let go until I tell you it’s okay to do so; do you understand?” You instruct Frisk with a clear voice. He nods against you and nestles into your necks crook. With careful and gentle breathing, you open a clean rift into the void to make up for the past catastrophic looking one you’d hastily ripped apart and walk through. You don’t delay yourself once inside – the quicker and more seldom Frisk spends within this nothingness, the better and less trouble you will experience with his parents later on.

Finding solitude in an open field, you pat Frisks back with reassurance after you seal over the exit.

“Alright champ – we’re out. You can let go now.” You inform him as he quickly unclings from you and takes a hesitant step back. Fear shivers over his being – likely never experienced a trip like that before. You come up to kneel beside him, cautiously placing your hand onto his shoulder.

“Hey. You’re gonna be alright. Let’s just do this and get you home before your food catches cold, huh?” You poke fun with your finger at his side as he finally lets a tiny giggle escape before you both settle into the thinned grass. To allow Frisk a better sense of privacy, you connect your soul wavelengths and speak without your true voice. It seems to help settle his tension.

“ _Alright. Tell me what has been bothering you. It will help emotionally and magically; I promise.”_ You start off as Frisk sits adjacent from you.

“ _These…these kids at school. They pick on MK. About how he falls or is ‘annoying’.”_ Already you can discern the harsh tone in his thoughts as Frisks face tightens.

“ _They don’t even give him a chance! He is a great friend and they just don’t understand like I do. When I step in and try to tell them to leave him alone, they turn on me and say I’m no better than the monsters. But it’s not my fault they wont listen!”_ Frisk retorts with anger clenching his fists tightly together.

“ _It certainly isn’t Frisk. And not everyone can be changed so easily. It simply can’t be done the same way it is with monsters, but your efforts are valiant._ ” You calmly remind him as Frisk begins to vibrate with tears in their eyes.

“ _No! You don’t understand! They don’t understand!_ ” Frisk practically screams with tears biting at his eyes. The Eskaria pouch grows in size, painful and electric – you watch it closely as your eye begins to swell with magic. You shift your knees into a more prepared position before continuing – continuing to encourage aggression.

“ _Of course I understand you Frisk. Why do you think I dragged you out here?_ ”

“ _Fo-For more magic lessons that I-I don’t know if they’ll help! How will this help me protect MK?_ ” Frisk pleads, clutching his head in misery.

“ _You can’t protect MK, Frisk. You are only one kid who is only learning. You can’t_ ” You urge as he defiantly throws his head side to side in disagreement. You turn into more of a kneeling position and ready your arm.

“ _Frisk. Listen to me. You can’t protect him. Not from everything._ ”

“SHUT UP!!” Frisk surprises you with his actual voice. Its still enough to snap your attention away the split moment it matters. Stumbling but suddenly lunging forward, you connect your index and middle fingers directly into Frisks belly button. Throwing your other arm back, your delay and lack of concentration leads to a flimsy discharge as you instantly sap out the manifesting energy crackling within Frisk. He gives a small yelp and falls back as the current hazardously runs through your body. It tightens and cracks your bones and nerves as it finally dispels from the other arm and out into the sky with a foreboding crackle. Your true concern lies in its color – it is pure red and white, unlike any you had seen before. Malice. Hatred.

Hissing as a searing shock pain runs through your arms and clavicle, you blow out some steam and relax your muscles before attending to Frisk. Tears bite at his eyes as he feels around his stomach before looking back at you. Seeing your face traced with contorted pain and his own emotions finally falling into sadness, he crumples up into your lap and hugs at your waist. Silent tears trickle down their eyes as you hug them close.

“Shh. Shhhh. I know – it hurts and then you feel empty. I _know_. I swear, it’ll heal. Sshhh just….just talk. It helps – I _promise_ you. Never be afraid to explain your feelings, your emotions, _anything_ to me. That’s why I am here; to help and train you to control yourself when stretched so thin. Letting this accumulate is dangerous…for us both.” You comment, looking at your arms. The nerves are once more shot as you try to relax the spasms. Frisk nods against you and you hoist them into your arms before looking off into the night sky.

“Hold onto me. We’re heading home. I need you to talk to your mom and dad – can you do that?” You plead as he gives an assuring nod. Stepping into a tiny rift, you float your way home with slight haste but taking enough caution to ensure Frisks safety. Stepping out, the house is a little darker, but a few stray lights still illuminate the insides. Creaking open the back door after closing the rift, you peak around the kitchen with the sniffling Frisk. Toriel made sure to wrap and place Frisks and your dinner into the microwave. At the moment, you aren’t hungering for the meal as you adjust Frisk in your grasp.

“ _Hungry?_ ” You ask politely through the soul wavelength. Would hate to disturb them at the late hour it was. Were had the time gone? Regardless, Frisk leans more into you and with a shake of the head you decide neither of you are willing to eat. Likely a lost appetite, you ponder while placing the meals in the fridge. Tip-toeing through the house, you shouldn’t be surprised to catch Asgore and Toriel snuggling by the fireplace reading books. Coming around the hallway corner with Frisk cradled in your arms, Toriel removes her reading glasses and looks upon both of you before rousing Asgore who had fallen asleep against the arm. There is silence past the crackling fire and chirping crickets of the night. No words seem to be necessary as you walk over to the quaint couple and relinquish Frisk into Asgores arms. Sharing a quick understanding glance with Toriel, you swiftly and silently ascend the stairs as Frisks sad muffled sobs rake through the echoing house.

 -----------------------------------------------

With an anguishing groan you are almost positive that Papyrus just exited the house since the door slammed and his enthusiastic laugh roared out and through your open window. Stretching and popping the joints in your body you rub your weary eyes and stumble your way to the bathroom. Hissing and relaxing as you slid into a prepared and bubbling warm bath you make sure that the water and suds clean the grime, grass and sweat accumulated into your locks while unknotting the tangled mess from your midnight tirade of sleep.

Even with the ever slight hue of pink in the bathtub seeping into the water, the lukewarm bath is exactly what you need as your arms soak and relax at long last from their tensed state. You mindlessly scrub your legs and feet for any persistent vegetation and muck that might’ve stuck to you uselessly and find yourself leaning back against the wall in thought.

Red lighting………certainly foreboding, if anything. From what Frisk explained and simply based off his attitude to the overall world, it seemed nay impossible for him to be able to conjure and produce such _hatred_ from such small acts. Granted, to Frisk they may not be small – but the bolt was nearly made purely on aggressive energy alone. Groaning with a backward tilt of the head you can only blame your stumble for not being completely on point with the negative rejection.

Stepping out and draining the water you contemplate on just how many more times you can manage that aggressive current. Maybe it would be wiser to start off with emotion control and counter balance if the bullying persists. Now you can only rely on Toriel to try and make things atleast more manageable.

Brushing your teeth, drying your hair, clothing your body? All of it is mindless in your seek for answers and possible routes to approach this new development with Frisk. A mage based off the kindness and love from others _couldn’t_ contain that much malicious intent without a dual source – something working like a charm that is truly a parasite.

Stumbling downstairs with a simple t-shirt and torn jeans, the cold stairs against your slightly damp feet is an eye opener as you crack your neck and descend to the lowest level. The house is fairly quiet past some chatter in the dining area. You ignore it and set your sights to the fridge for a morning glass of milk and maybe an orange. Reaching your destination comes with two prizes : the milk and orange you’d yearned for, and Undyne barreling into you so fast you nearly get thrown into the fridge. She manages to catch the milk while your sudden startle kills the orange forever in your contorted vice grip. Glaring behind you at her you feel your own hatred grow and swell – though that means little. Taking a deep breath and turning about you wipe the splattered orange from off your face and try to shake any remnants from your shirt and pants.

“What the hell do you think bashing into me from behind this early in the morning is going to cau-“

“You got two packages!” Undyne shouts in exaggeration before hooking her arm around yours and dragging you by the elbow into the dining room. Asgore, Sans, and Alphys are still inside and puzzling over the packages. While one of them is clearly a trademark package from Muffets; what with its numerous logos and the address sender pointing to only one suspect, the other is mysterious. And otherworldly. Gray and white with patches of metal to keep from investigating eyes prying. You know _exactly_ who it’s from.

“Strange capsule. Do you know who this is from Rea? Its addressed to your….’code name’?” Asgore asks as Undyne drags you over – still un-relinquishing of the milk.

“Mhmm. Yeah.” You yawn before flipping the package. One of the metallic panels has an odd series of deranged and misshapen buttons. You click your jaw and rapidly press a certain combination of the buttons before it gives an approving beep and the largest metal patch flings off and nearly hits the above light-fixture. Alphys certainly isn’t prepared as she gives a slight shriek and backs away.

“Ah. Sorry. Shoulda warned you.” You grumble reaching inside the opening and feeling around before you find the button sized tracker inside and produce it in your hands, checking the features. The capsule package is a storing mechanism for the dimensional trackers you use. Forge always made a batch and just kinda chucked them into ‘the between’ with a tracker pulling it towards your soul. It would reach you one way or another and you were thankful since you’d used the last one you had recently. Sighing with a smile, you place the tracker back into the little box and place it to the side. You groan and shimmy over to the Muffets box that Sans has been eagerly eyeing a bit too much.

“Didn’t know you were a morning person.” You groan, peeling off the tape from the cardboard container.

“the **yeast** I can do is see _this_ go down.” He mumbles with a dozing grin. You feel a pang of regret as the cardboard finally opens and the first thing you see is a deep burgundy red with lace. Pulling out the clothing, you feel your soul drop and your face flush as you try to collect your work uniform.

The skirt frills and poofs out masterfully with an embroidered lace at the lining. Buttons and ribbons adorn the little pockets on the sides of the skirt beside the red and white accents as you trace the frills with your eyes. The top of the dress certainly accentuates your breasts and shoulders – it specifically has little cup placements with thumb length straps connecting the top around your body. Halfway to your elbow are draping sleeves that have a prominent bulge at your wrist before wrinkling off. While the sleeves and lower half of the dress are a greyish black with a tint of pink here and there along with lace, the upper body is a crimson color and practically looks like a bodice.

“you should see your **lace**. it’s pretty **rad**.” Sans pokes fun with a snicker as he feels the fabric and lacing of your uniform. You set your elbows onto the table to groan and grumble into your hands. Undyne has resorted to laughing in the corner, choking back on tears. Even Asgore is having a laugh. _Asgore_. Looking back up to your demise you find Alphys has intruded to inspect the fine lining.

“T-This is incredibly done! A-All in o-one night too! Oh! Oh-Oh-Oh i-if you wore this t-to the Centro Community Comic-Con n-next month, i-it would make a re-really nice cosplay for episode 23 of Mew Mew Kissie Cutie 4 where the heroine has to go save her comrades from the evil clutches of Nastirator!” Alphys screams with glowing eyes but shrinks her enthusiasm as you glare down over her.

“I am _not_ wearing this to work, let _alone_ a cosplay convention Alphys.” You warn as she shies away to the still tearing up Undyne.

“hey, could be worse. she really held back on the frills this time. last gal who worked there had so many frills she looked like one of the pastries. pretty **dough** eyes and everything.” Sans remarks with a wink.

“I swear to all of God you are going back down first if I must…” You mutter in agony as the realization hits you. You start work. _Today._

Hoisting up the packages into your arms, you retreat to your room in flushed embarrassment before looking back over the outfit. While you could certainly appreciate that craftminship put into the dress in such a short time, there was no getting around how uncomfortable and _embarrassing_ this was going to be. Finding a safe set of underwear to wear to compliment and deter onlookers, you slip into the outfit. Its plush and silk on the inside but not so condensed it will keep you sweaty and uncomfortable. The sleeves fit and accentuate your wrists while the tips of your pale shoulders buldge out from the purposeful opening. Feeling over the bodice and the buttoning blouse portion the dress overall feels very comfortable until you glance into the mirror. Crumbling in on yourself, you refuse to let anyone see you like this as you take a risky move. Pinning your hair back into a ponytail and making sure the leggings you choose are workable with, you groan with regret when you look back into the package to find she even sent you shoes. _Heels_ at that. Putting them onto your feet, you aren’t surprised that they’re a perfect fit and have a velvet bottom to keep your feet from cramping. The only other advantage is it makes you taller then Sans. But you cannot even wallow in that victory because you wouldn’t let Sans or _anyone_ catch you dead in this outfit.

Cutting a hasty rift into the void you hurl yourself in with little grace to just speed up initially and get to Muffets faster. You bring a tracking clip to place onto Muffets to make locating the place easier as you try and control your embarrassment and shame. You catch yourself coming out in the side alley to the store. Hastily, you run into the back entrance Muffet had informed you about and walk through the cobweb ridden halls. Knocking on Muffets office, you fidget in the dress as heels clatter behind the closed door. She may be the only one who knows (thanks to your application) that you hadn’t had a paying job ever. She opens the door and all of her eyes grow wide with a following gasp while you try and crumple in on yourself.

“Darling you look _positively **adorable!!!** ” _She screeches, quickly combing over your entire body with her eyes and adjusting a few of the laces.

“Can’t I have, like, a butlers outfit? I look like a maid. I’d like…y’know………pants?” You cringe while looking to your stocking covered legs.

“Oh no dearie! It would ruin your child-like charms! Come along now!” She enthuses with a low giggle before dragging you along. _Child-like?_ Looking down at your features, how can a child-like figure have exaggerated breasts? Muffet pulls you up front to the sales area – the place you’d dreaded the most.

“Alrighty dearie. The individual pastries are already installed into the little machine. Alls you need to do is greet the customers with that vibrant little smile, fetch their order with a little sway, and take their money with your little hands~” She coos while spinning and tipping her head.

“…Why are you exaggerating the little part.” You grumble as you ruffle your hand over your face and through your hair.

“Fuhuhu! Oh dearie, you’re such a cutie!” Muffet giggles as she uses her spare arms to pinch your cheeks affectionately.

Muffet spends some more time in the front helping you to familiarize with the products she carries, the locations of the buttons, and exactly _how_ to properly earn tips. You think the tips might just be her own benefit as she is literally throwing you to the hounds. Leaving you an extra spare minutes to let yourself attune to the new surroundings you locate all the cleaning utensils, memorize the layout of the cash register and the drawer contents, and try to talk to some of the onlooking spiders in the shops corner. Looking to the clock and taking a deep breath you choose now to put up the ‘OPEN’ sign in the window but the ringing of the doors bell alerts you as you startle and calm your nerves. Fixing what you hope is a decent smile, you turn to greet the customers to only catch Undyne trying her intensely to not sputter into laughter. Instantly your eye flares in embarrassment and you drop behind the counter and cover your face.

Past Undynes boisterous laughter you hear the tapping of bone against metal followed with the ringing of the counter bell. You peek over the edge with a completely red face to glare daggers of lightning at Sans.

“heya.”

“Get out.” You plead, trying to remain as hidden as possible. Sans lets a loose snort as Undyne clears tears from her eye and comes to the edge of the counter. Reaching around and grabbing the strap she hoists you into view and gives a whistle.

“Haha! Suits ya!” She guffaws as you cross your arms to best hide your upper body.

“Oh can it! Are you going to order something or not?” You grumble, looking at the selection.

“easy there. wouldn’t want me to complain to the head honcho, would ye?” Sans raises an invisible brow as he bone melds to the motion. You can feel 5 eyes glaring into your back as you try to breathe and unstiffen.

“Think nothing of it, _SIR_. How can I help you today, _SIR?_ ” You punctuate as you try to keep your grin from going crooked. Sans doesn’t openly hold back on his laughter, but remains on the down low as he looks over the menu.

“I’m getting me and Alph one of the pound cakes! Think Paps would like some cider?” Undyne asks as you fumble around to get a to-go bag.

“eh. probably. heard he has to deal with the world wide **web** today.” Sans chuckles with a snicker as you and Undyne both grow.

“Absolutely hilarious…” You grumble as you pick up the cake. You weren’t expecting it to _actually_ weigh a pound, but it doesn’t stop you from managing to get it into the baggy. Snatching a cider from the cooler and bringing the orders over towards the cash-register. You catch a loose pigtail belonging _only_ to Muffet and ignore her peeping as you attend to Undyne and Sans.

“Alright.” You comment, placing both the orders down and staring at the machine… to which you have already forgotten how to locate the items. You must be staring at the computer for nearly a minute or two before Undyne clears her throat.

“Pound cake and Cider.” She clarifies, looking between you and the order.

“I can see, Undyne. I am just finding the order on the machine so I can know the amount you owe.” You inform her, looking back towards the screen.

“heh. guess its free.” Sans shrugs with a wide grin.

“A  It’s not free and B  Just give me a moment.” You groan while looking over the options. You hate doing something to only discover it was wrong and have to fix the error and restart, but your mind struggles to recall the sequence.

“ya don’t get better at this you’ll have trouble at **femur** hour.” He smirks as you begin to sweat with concern.

“Femur? Really dude? It is _never_ called a fever hour.” Undyne remarks with a scoff and placing her hand on her hips. Sure of your choice, you ready you finger close to the touch screen before immediately hesitating and just hovering. Hovering and concerning. Then you simply go blank – not a single memory. You can’t decide. You can’t mess this up. Everyone’s watching, waiting – _expecting_ something from you. You can’t decide. It’s driving you mad.

“hey, uh, smalls, you catchin’ a **femur** yourself?”

“C’mon dude – can’t use the same joke twice…….Hey, Rea?”

There’s a distinct snapping by your ear and face, but it can’t pull you from the trembling stare you have fixated on the screen. Before long a quick tapping of fingers pressing against the screen and muffled voices join together as a hand grasps your shoulder and gives you a waking shake. Gasping and snapping your head around, Muffet is putting the required change into the register and waving Sans and Undyne off.

“Have a great day dearies!” She calls as the door closes tight behind them. Not a second later she spins you around and has two hands pushed against your head and cheeks. “Are you alright? You dazed out – do you need a doctor sweetie?” She asks thoughtfully as you gently pull your face away from her prying.

“No-no. I’m…okay. I just didn’t…remember. The-the code input. Not knowing kinda…stresses me out.” You fidget with your sleeve as Muffet giggles softly.

“It’s alright, dearie. That’s why I’m here! New job, first job, needs to be slow and helpful. If you _ever_ get stuck, I’m right beyond the door – there is no shame in seeking help from peers! Besides, time is money and wasting customers time isn’t helpful to sales. If your ever stumped just give me a call.” She teases with a shy swat of the hands. You focus on breathing and wiping the accumulated sweat from your forehead before transfixing a determined stare onto Muffet. You weren’t letting anyone down – not anymore.

“I understand. Thank you for this chance.” You assert as she gives another giggle.

“Alright! Lets have some sales, dearies!!” She calls out as a trio of spiders drop down and attach the ‘OPEN’ sign to the window. With a sense of purpose, you position yourself and begin memorizing for the next customer.

 ----------------------------------------------------

“Damn that was weird. Didn’t know Muffet could make someone so terrifying look so kawaii!” Undyne laughs boisterously as she carries the heavy goodies.

“Think she’ll be alright? I know it was _your_ idea to visit, but I don’t think she was ready for that.” Undyne remarks. After a tad of silence, she stops and looks behind to find Sans a few paces back, looking back towards the store as the first true customer enters with a tired grin.

“yeah…” He whispers before shoving his hands into his pockets and walking by Undyne. Confused but unquestioning, she follows him down the street and back home with their spoils.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope I didn't disappoint!  
> Please leave comments down below - or if you want to stay more private you can always send me questions and asks at my tumblr!! ---- [ Heyo Here's the Link!! ](https://blbf-fanfic.tumblr.com/)


	11. Time to Try

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rea is struggling here and there...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fuck its done!! Woo!! Pulled an all-nighter on this one, but here it is!!  
> HOT damn...

Time seems to loom on as the day eggs on. You eventually give in after nearly an hour of trials and errors regarding the confound cash register and decide to make a code cheat sheet to hide beneath the register in case of emergencies. The swelling concern of failure loomed too heavily until it drove you to the point on insanity before you finally scrawled hastily the input numbers and prices necessary. While some orders were fairly easy to assist with, a few stray customers had very specific needs to the point of border narcissism. You handled your temper as best as possible before your brain flat-wired and Muffet would step it. Then again, Muffet seemed incapable of handling the more demanding clientele as well.

“Dearie? What seems to be the matter?” Muffet asks quickly from behind which startles you; guilt pouring into your mind. You aren’t even allowed to manage a word out as the woman before you scoffs.

“Oh _please_ tell me you are the manager or something! I’ve been waiting for 5 minutes for this _dunce_ to get me a simple spider donut, 2 ciders, and 8 of your other pastries! I don’t care which so long as they are under 10 dollars – be quick, won’t you?”  The woman groans impatiently, her foot tapping in time as the customers behind her scoff at the ignorance. There was physically no possible way to bring her order to under 10 dollars and you weren’t _allowed_ to pick stuff at random without Muffets guidance.

“I’m sorry dearie, but the love of these pastries takes money to make. You can get the donut, ciders, and 2 other pastries for under 10 dollars, but everything else would bring it above 20. You understand, yes?” Muffet calmly explains, gesturing to the menu.

“Then just give me a discount. I don’t have time for this.”

Discount seems to be a trigger word for Muffet as you watch on with fearful eyes – the aggressive baking glint gleaming in each of Muffets gaze.

“A _discount_ dearie? My – I haven’t seen you offer, do, or _provide_ anything to my bakery! You pay like the others pay, sweetie! Or would you like some more _salt_ with your breakfast?” Muffet glares at the woman who gasps in surprise and storms out of the store, pockets full and hands as empty as she had arrived. You are still caught in a state of shock as Muffet assists and apologizes to the rest of the awaiting line, helping you gather the necessary orders, and continuing to guide you through the check-out process. While by the end of the day it is certainly easier to understand you aren’t completely there during the end of the day as you gladly pin the ‘Closed’ sign up.

Muffet keeps you behind after hours to discuss your ethic, mobility, and a multiple other things.

“You are doing fine out there dearie – just keep your head high and make sure to offer them the 3 for 4 deal~” Muffet giggles with a farewell wave, even giving you a slightly broken pastry to take home as a reward well done as she sends you on your way. You check-out and heave a sigh – maintaining appearances during work hours was going to be harsher then you had realized as you discover it was nearly 8 P.M. It didn’t help that the malicious bolt from the other day that you extracted from Frisk still riddled your arms with tense nerves that jolted throughout the day. Cutting a tear would be risky, but walking down the street in your _uniform_ was more embarrassing then words could likely describe. Unsure, you peeked down the side-walk to test the number of passerby’s. After scouting out atleast 6 people in such a short time-frame it became clear you wouldn’t be walking home tonight. Your feet probably wouldn’t appreciate the extended pressure any longer either.

Taking a deep breath and regaining focus, you tear a rip against the opposing building in the back entrance to Muffets and jump through. Floating through the Void is a lot more relaxing now that you experienced your first day of work. Your phone sends a startling ping from your pocket as you fish it out, still flowing towards the source you had become familiar with.

  **Mir** **: Hey hey! Did you hear from base yet?!**

You groan and roll your eyes – as if you knew anything going on regarding the HQ. You quickly tap your fingers across the screen in reply.

 **Rea** **: Do you forget I am not there and therefore have no way of hearing about shit? Whats up? P.S – Thank Tic-Tac for the package- I received it earlier.**

You huff and deposit the phone back into your pocket. Hopefully he would get the message. Mirage had a tendency to get lost in thought and dreams, but a text carried over and lasted so it was much less likely she would forget.

Finally you find the rift into your room and plop face first into bed. You grumble and rustle until you manage to sneak beneath the covers – clothed and exhausted. Too exhausted to even remove the slowly blistering heels from your feet. Sleep threatens to invade your thoughts as you fiddle around with the pastry in your pocket and eat nearly half of it into one bite – you had completely forgotten that humans had regulated lunch breaks during lengthy work hours and thusy had no lunch for the afternoon. Muffet had offered to let you buy discount pastries because she’d rather give you a discount when you needed food then just a general, but you told her it was fine to simply get a short break. In reality, you didn’t have the money even for the discounted treats. The wonderful smelling food looming behind you the entire day was similar to light torture. The pastry was nearly consumed as you reviewed your sleeping choices. You had to work again tomorrow, and it was another lengthy shift. Although you would also prefer to avoid the dinner talk tonight – the memories of Sans and Undynes quick visit sending an embarrassed blush over your cheeks. Sleep was more then tempting, but there was work to be done that would be best to nip in the butt earlier then later when your schedule could possibly prove hectic.

Regretfully you extract yourself from the bed. The cool night air slips through the crack in your window as you shut and lock it tight, drawing the curtains to shield the room from the faint moon light and any stray prying eyes. You proceed to the front door as you lock it as well, before finally feeling safe enough to undo the uniform and be free from the clinging waistline. You hang it onto the side, planning to clean it once the household was all to rest. You quickly discard the clinging bra as well, opting for a slack t-shirt and fuzzy PJ pants instead. You check back onto your phone in anticipation for Mirages text, but it has yet to arrive.

You sneak into your enchanted study and begin logging everything into a separate notebook. You set up a connection between the computer and the realm-watcher before devoting yourself to inputting the logistical directions around the town. Connecting the watcher wirelessly to the connectors you place down allows you to get input information readings regarding the sensory trackers you placed around.

Losing track of time, you nibble away at the remnants of the pastry, licking the crumbs away from your fingers as you anxiously type away coordinates into the system to log for later – faster then revisiting and planting them individually, but taxing on the mind regardless.

Hours pass before you are content with the amount of work done before you even dare to spare the clock a gander. Shrinking with guilt to the late hour you stretch your limbs and gather your work uniform. Peeking your eye at the front door, you decide it won’t be a long trip and leave the study unattended, but closed obviously.

The floor boards beneath your feet squeak with each cautious step as you shamble quietly down the staircase, aiming for the laundry room set on the second floor. Toriel must’ve had a busy day to forget there was clothing left behind in the washer. You do her the favor of throwing it into the drier so as to have your clothes in the wash. Of course, it likely won’t take long as you choose it would be wise to prepare some form of dinner. Turning both the machines on, you shut the door as the low resonating machines go about their business.

Creeping through the house at night made you feel like a form of infiltrating stalker. Your mind drove that thought out the door as you found a handmade meal sitting lovingly in the fridge upon opening. Above it sat a little note.

‘Dear Rea – If you are reading this then you found the dinner! We hope you had a lovely day at work – and Alphys was thankful for the Spider Cider Undyne bought, so be sure to patch that over to Muffet for us, dear. There is a Science convention taking place in the center of town tomorrow at noon. We weren’t aware of your schedule and interests but extend an invitation for you to join us nonetheless. Please leave a message on the fridge regarding your schedule and if you would be able to join us. Thank you and have a good night! – Toriel’

You sigh with contentment as you untop the meal – breaded chicken, green beans and some bread with cheese. On the opposite side of the note where you decided to write the reply are detailed microwave instructions for reheating the meal. You can’t help but giggle as you rummage around the kitchen for another sticky note after plopping the meal into the microwave to heat up.

‘Toriel – Thanks for the invitation, but I work tomorrow. You guys go have fun – take some pictures for me if you want cuz science is cool. Yeah. Totally. I’m working late tomorrow too but I threw my clothes in the wash and drier with the rest. All’s I need is to wake up before I go to work to get some lunch this time around. Don’t know the schedule yet – will let Muffet know about that thank you. And thanks for the dinner – starved. – Rea’

Content with the reply you pin it up against the fridge in plain sight as the microwave beeps with finished approval. Grasping the plate between your fingers you are pleased to feel its warming touch against the tips of skin. Setting down at the table, you finally take a moment to survey your arm as you pop a steaming nugget into your mouth. A few of the nerve points were still bristling, the veins were more prominent, and irritation blemishes began popping up around the dip of your shoulder. Feeling over the lumps, they are slightly painful to the touch. You absently stab a few green beans against your fork before chewing them heartily. Checking over your opposing arm in comparison, its difficult to tell the differentiations because of old burn marks flaked across your body. Still, the differences are distinct – less prominent veins and certainly a decrease in the invasive and painful blemishes. A little make-up over the veins would do plenty as your shoulders are decently concealed by the work attire.

The hallway opposite the kitchen begins to creak as your attention spikes and you grab the little butter knife you’d picked out to, in fact, butter the beans. You ready it in your twitchy arm before crouching against wall. Recalling the direction of the sound, it was silent and long again as another creak echoed throughout the hall. It was coming from the direction of Undyne and Alphys’ housing – though it was also the direction of the window to the bathroom the more you wracked your brain around the house layout. Peeking around the corner, it’s nay impossible to see anything in the darkness swallowing the house – the curtains are drawn and conceal the majority of the house in shade. A faint figure is leaned against the wall in the hallway leading to Undynes. Their stature doesn’t look familiar as you ready the dull knife – you’d hate to give more hateful news regarding the monsters and the stunt you pulled before with the gang was already very hounding on you and them.

There is a faint ringtone before the phones light is produced from a pocket of sorts and immediately illuminates the ivory bones of Sans. Your eyes widen as you see the bones gain an almost ethereal glow to them as his bones clack away at the screen, likely in response. Even his bones weren’t easily perceivable in the night it seems, and he is wearing a grey tank-top. Relinquishing the knife and relaxing against the wall, Sans takes another quiet step through the house, also trying to not wake the masses with the wrong movement. You sigh and retreat the knife back into calmness before your arm gives a violent jerk to the tensing and relaxation of your muscles. The jerking motion causes you to hiss in pain as the knife clanks against the wall and floor. Sans’ phone resonates with the closing sound as the hall creaks with another step.

You don’t completely understand why you cling to the wall and shrink in size, fidgeting around the little wall into the kitchen as the footsteps draw near. Of everyone in the house, you primarily want to avoid Sans and Undyne on account of the untimely visit, but what will it matter? It’s impossible to evade them forever – you _live_ together. Regardless, you sneak around the corner while remaining careful of the creaking floor and tiles. You eventually are halfway through the kitchen before being able to eye the staircase. It’s unwise to try and sneak around, but it’s just as stupid to dash for it. Cutting a rift into your room would just verify who was sneaking around if he hadn’t actually caught on yet.

“if ya think yer bein’ sneaky, you shoulda moved the plate.” Sans calls out with a sigh. You twinge with regret to the obvious evidence before poking your head out. He has that sly smile stretched across his skull as he catches sight of your hair glistening against the moon. Of course the moonlight is poking through exactly where you produce your head. His eye sockets grow wide, pupils small as you finally extricate yourself shamefully from the kitchen. He seems speechless momentarily as you pout and lean your head against the ridge.

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?” You grumble impatiently, trying to keep your head low to prevent the sight of your blush.

“likewise.” He murmurs back with a slight laugh. You pout to his cocky attitude and turn your head away impatiently.

“Well last I checked you didn’t live over there.”

“last I checked you didn’t need to know my reasons for anything.” He replies as your shoulders tense. When did you resort to bickering?

“Kinda matters when I think you’re some _creep_ who snuck into the house.”

“glad we’re on the same page.” He is snickering at this point as you grumble in agitation, snaking your body around the table and picking up the mostly finished plate. You throw the last of the breaded chicken into your mouth and chew angrily as you clean and deposit your plate to dry on the border of the sink. You can still feel Sans’ presence at the corner of the room, watching from afar.

“Don’t you need to go to sleep?” You murmur as you busy yourself with drying and cleaning the provided plate and utensils.

“could say the same for you – work and all.” You don’t allow him to sneak a snicker in as you spin about while he reads the reply note attached to the fridge and shove your finger directly into his sternum and glaring into his eye. It’s almost impossible to avoid the blush that is pulsating heat over your entire face.

“Listen to me. We don’t talk about what happened. We don’t have any more little excursions over there when I am working. We do not discuss _anything_ regarding Muffets or I will find a way to rain hell down upon your life – are we clear?” You warn, your eye spiraling uncontrollably. His smug smile doesn’t abandon his face as he calmly stares back into your eyes; scanning your face and reading your expression.

“eh. maybe. kid loves visitin’ Muffets on their way back from school, and _usually_ someones givin’ ‘im a ride-“ He begins to explain and exaggerate as you push your finger into his sternum that presses him back against the fridge door.

“Are we _clear?_ ” You demand, your arm trembling. He seems to catch the moment your attention is diverted as he scans your arm in the moment.

“sure. jus’ explain why your arm looks like that suddenly and we’ll shut out traps.” He shrugs calmly as you snag your sleeve and conceal your arm hastily and backing away to be shrouded in more of the kitchens darkness.

“It’s nothing. Just an accident. It’ll heal up in no time. Happy?” You grumble before storming back off to the stairs. You trudge up without concentration to the sleeping residents around you and rummage through the dry laundry to snatch your fresh uniform from the finished pile. You throw it over your shoulder and glare sleepily at the clothing.

You can’t resist folding the rest of the laundry into a bin for Toriel to help take your mind off of everything. You cautiously work your way upstairs now after you leave the bin atop the drier and hang your uniform up in the bathroom. You glare at the clock that now reads into the early morning as you crash into the top of the covers, somehow squirm beneath the covers and bury your face into the pillow as you drown in your sleep.

* * *

 

You bolt awake as the resonating phone alarm finally catches your tired ear. You snatch your phone and pale as the time reads just minutes before your next shift. You throw yourself from your bed and stumble into the bathroom, fixing your hair and ensuring you keep your human appearance. You wiggle into your uniform, blindly making sure you have some form of underwear and socks on while sneaking your phone into the pocket before finally slipping the heels on as you rip a tear into the void. Before you take the first step, you recall your need to eat lunch and feel your stomach churn desperately. Glaring at the clock you could cry as you simply _don’t_ have time to make anything in time.

You fall backwards into the void and use a slight boost to rush to the other end, popping out at the back entrance of Muffets. You readjust your hair and clothes before rustling in the back, peeking into Muffets office to inform her you arrived and quickly jumping on the front.

An hour. Two. Three hours of almost _no_ customers and just a weary sleepy you shambling about with orders. Muffet allows you to drink a chocolate coffee mix that helps rejuvenate your energy, “So you can stay awake and focus, dearie!” is what she had said. You felt a twinge of guilt for the situation she’d found you in, but it wasn’t all bad. It helped to hold you over and helped relax your still tensing arm. Taking a moment of slowness in the line you inspect your shoulder to find the painful blister-like bits of skin already prickling or deflating. You heave a relieved sigh and check over the pastry stock for overall freshness similar to how Muffet had taught you. She instructed you to work on friendliness, efficiency, and checking the stock. The doors bell jingles in informing the entrance or exit of a customer. Swerving your head around to check whether to great or goodbye the passerb-

“HELLO REA!!!”

It takes all of your concentration to not put the donuts you are rearranging in a crumbling death grip as the group walks in, Papyrus taking the proud lead towards the register. Toriel is clearly spotted behind, as predicted, with Frisk and Flowey at her side. You catch Alphys’ tail hiding behind Toriels tall form. You sigh with slight relief despite the dazzling eyes Toriel and Papyrus are sharing as you sneak over to the register. You are about to address them when the little bell at the register gets rung. Sans’ head pokes out from behind the register as you need to actually restrain yourself from hopping the counter and beating him to dust.

“My, dear, you look wonderful! The outfit suits you nicely.” Toriel comments, giving you a warm smile that melts you back down from the tension that overcame you. You sigh and just go with it.

“Thanks, I suppose. Didn’t you say you were going to that Science Convention or whatever?” You ask, checking over the cheat sheet absently to remind yourself before they ordered – if they ordered.

“OH YES! THE CONVENTION WAS QUITE INCREDIBLE – ALL OF THE HUMAN MADE INVENTIONS!! ALPHYS AND SANS SPENT SO MUCH TIME OGLING OVER THE WHOLE THING THAT WE COULDN’T TAKE AS MANY GROUP PHOTOS TOGETHER!! HOWEVER, AS YOU REQUESTED, I TOOK PLENTY OF PHOTOS FOR YOU TO REVIEW ONCE YOU RETURN HOME THIS EVENING – FOR I AM THE GREAT FRIEND PAPYRUS! NYEHEHEH!!” Papyrus hollers, obviously catching the attention of all the customers as you shrink under his enthusiasm. You nervously chuckle and try to gesture for him to ease off the screaming, but you know he can’t really help it all that much.

“Ye-Yeah! They-they had a huge var-variety of science! There w-were these robot duals and races, inside inventions o-of the modern airplanes an-and clocks! Th-Then th-th-there was a wing regarding catalysts and chemical reactions – they even had this one called the S-Sugar Snake where they mixed sucrose with sulfuric acid!” Alphys’ eyes shine with joy as she reviews her own photos through the camera in her pocket. She picked a nice daisy flower design tank-top with thick jeans, a light denim jacket that hung low enough to conceal the point her tail poked through the clothing. It suited her nicely as it nicely contrasted against her yellow scales that shone in the suns rays.

“pretty disappointed they didn’t have any of the self-sustaining tornados, but I guess humans don’t study quantum physics enough.” Sans shrugs but looks pretty content as he reviews the photos with Alphys on the sidelines. Frisk is happily patting their hands after settling Flowey onto the desk. Flowey stares silently at you for a good period of time as the others survey the menu choices.

“You look stupider than usual.” Flowey hints, his tiny beady eyes losing interest as you conceal a fist under the counter. So easy it would be to just ‘accidentally’ push the entire pot off the desk. _So easy_.

“You haven’t expanded your vocabulary as usual.” You teasingly stick your tongue out knowing the little beast isn’t capable of anything as he muffles something beneath his leaves. “Hmm? If you wanna say something just say it.”

“Why do you go out looking like this, but have white hair and your _weird_ eyes when you get home?” He grumbles, tilting his head and flowing his petals. You pause to contemplate and run the words through your brain again – it gives you the briefest flash back of your school days before Frisk hastily is snapping with angry furrowed brows. They sign something far too quickly for you to catch as Flowey hisses in discontent. “What? It’s true! She looks weird!” Flowey shouts in retaliation as Frisk quickly scoops them up with an annoyed frown and stuffs the majority of Flowey into their large backpack – for timeout, you suppose. The bratty flower instantly shuts up as Frisk feebly reaches across the counter trying to reach your hand. You meet him halfway as he speaks on the little internal private channel.

“ _Are you for sale because you’re the sweetest thing in here.”_

Immediately you snatch your hand away from the grinning child and warily stare at them.

“You……You know I am _over_ 100 years older than you, right…” You whisper past the desk as Frisk gives a giggle and pecks his hand before blowing it your way. It confuses you why this child is so flirtatious to begin with, but you hardly get a chance to ask as everyone returns ready to order. They buy a few pastries, croissants and just a few bagels. They share a helping of Spider Cider and settle down into one of the window booths, much to your displeasure. It wasn’t completely bad though – you got to watch everyone in a fairly neutral setting. Papyrus had to quiet down when Muffet came out and calmly complained that if she could hear his chatter from the office then she wasn’t okay with him breaking the rest of the peoples ear-drums or current lack thereof. He seemed down about it, but he kept his voice as hushed as Papyrus could manage – though he vibrated with energy and need to shout out from your view on the counter. Toriel gasps and rushes back over to you as she fiddles with the large bag she carried around – your presumed it was just one of those bulky purses.

“Here Rea. I heard you needed to make lunch but we didn’t see you at the table so I assumed you needed something for your break. I hope you don’t mind turkey.” Toriel sighs with a grin as you fish around in the carry-on baggie she produces. Inside rests a lovingly made turkey sandwich – fit with lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, and a thin condiment you can’t make out. It’s touching to say the least. You give her a wavering smile as she laughs off the appreciation and returns to the table allowing you to do your job.

Because of the slow day you were able to witness casual conversation between the family and Frisk, but also the others peoples reactions to the group. It might have been biased because of the monster-friendly establishment, but if people weren’t smiling at their antics they just paid them no mind – no glares or gossip murmurs to spread. The group decides to hang around and chatter well passed their meals are finished as you busy yourself with checking on the supply again – the majority of the customers leaving or busying themselves with work or just not paying attention to anything else.

The door jingles to alert you and turning your head about you catch a figure walking up to the register pretty hastily. They are completely dressed in black besides their grey hoodie that hides the symbol on their shirt enough to intrigue you. Nonetheless, you wander over to the counter with a smile.

“Hello sir, what can I get for you today?” You ask politely, trying to read his eyes. It doesn’t help he has on glasses and a green scarf covers his face nearly all the way to his nose. The faint click of metal rings out as you drag your eyes down to the base of the counter where a tiny gun remains slightly concealed within the jackets sleeve. Looking slowly back up to their eyes, they don’t seem to hesitate or be shaky; they are used to this by now.

“Open the register and fork over the money you monster hugging bitch.” The man warns, the guns safety unlocked as he gestures towards the register vaguely with the gun aimed directly at your midsection – enough to strike terror and injury, but not to kill. You keep a cool head, scanning around the remaining customers. Nobody seems to even notice that someone is in the line. Opening the register gains the assailant’s attention long enough for you to take the window of opportunity. You drive your free arm which happens to be the twitchy one directly in his elbow which disconnects the nerve without causing harm and causes his arm to numb and drop the gun with a faint clatter onto the counter. Before the man can even utter or gasp is surprise, you grab his collar and scarf and hoist teleport him to behind the counter where you reach hastily beneath his gaping and ready to scream jaw and pinch another nerve that sends him into sleep as he slouches against your ankle. You fumble to grab the gun and store it underneath the register cabinet and out of sight. Despite the half flung body that was very obvious being pulled behind the counter, nobody seemed to pay attention.

Taking a moment, you duck down and check the man for any other weaponry or potential current threats. Even identification for when the police came, which you planned to do the moment you could get Muffets attention.

“anybody home?” You hear that familiar baritone voice as you pop up with surprise to find Sans leisurely leaning against the counter. “oh there you are.” You try to keep a straight face with a happy smile as you wring your wrists impatiently – you needed to step away to get Muffet.

“How can I help you _sir_?” You continue to punctuate with agitation. He leans against the counter, eying you directly.

“don’t you think paralyzing your customers will get you fired?” Sans snickers, peeking over the counter to look at the loose hood. You step by to try and shield the body from view.

“I’d rather be fired then point-blank shot Sans.” You whisper with a grin, Sans’ falling immediately as his eyes take on a darker purpose with their stare. “Look. Watch the desk while I get Muffet, ‘lright?” You warn quickly, casting a wary eye to the door as he gives a faint nod of the head before you dash off behind the door. You give a polite knock at Muffets door as she is quick to reply by opening it.

“Yes dearie? What seems to be the iss-“ “Okay, um, this guy’s unconscious behind the counter because he tried to rob the store but nobody saw him get knocked out so I wanted to let you know we need to call the police.” You interrupt her with a thumbs up before proceeding back to the front. She seems to catch everything as she is quick to rush the landline in her office and you can hear the clacking of the dial pad resounding through the open door. You return to the front where Sans remained to cover the register. Papyrus was making an even louder ruckus then before which was driving the need for privacy customers out of the shop with a little trickle – whether it was on purpose or not didn’t matter considering their safety came first.

Checking over the man, you investigate the symbol you’d eyed behind his jacket. It was a badge with the same design as the Black Hearts. Your chest churned with hatred as the bell to the door jingled once more in alarm. You would turn the customer away if they weren’t multiple men similarly dressed like the unconscious one behind the register. They didn’t hesitate to produce guns which instantly caught the attention of the customers as a warning shot was fired off into the ceiling. One woman screamed and instantly ducked beneath the table with her laptop, fiddling for her phone, while the majority of the other customers were either too terrified to move or just were being directly held at gunpoint. Toriel kept Frisk and Flowey in cover behind her, Alphys ducking beneath the seat and Papyrus trying to ease the patrons.

“Nobody _fucking_ moves-“ One man shouts but you don’t give him the chance – instantly vaulting over the counter and over Sans before face stomping directly into the first to enter. Concern for your identity is the least of your worries as you round house another man into the wall, disabling an adjacent attacker with their gun safety unlocked before he attempts to trip you up. Suddenly he is enveloped in blue and thrust into the other man who’d been sprawled against the wall moments before. Two more men that watched the entrance rushed inside, one wielding a knife. You dodge away from a vital swing to your torso and nearly stumble into Sans and the counter as he side-steps out of the way. The two that had enter don’t startle by the equal fighting presence and lunge forward. You follow suit until two giant red gloves encase both of their heads before bashing their skulls together and them crumpling to the ground. You were surprised Papyrus could even hurt a fly, let alone a human – but the help was appreciated. In a flash dull blue bones encased each of the grumbling or unconscious bodies and locking them within their new confines. You make a dash to the front, ripping off the ‘Open’ sign and peering around the corner. The all too noticeable trademark car is evident and nobody else seems to be present. Doing another quick scan, you return inside as Papyrus is helping frightened customers to their feet.

“I’m terribly sorry any of you were mixed into this. Please head home or to the police station regarding the incident – it is safe outside.” You ensure as the last of the customers make a dash to the door. You sigh and undo the ponytail from your hair – so much for your second day of work.

“nice job paps.” Sans compliments his brother with a hearty pat to his spine; Papyrus takes it in stride, posing heroically.

“INDEED!! YOU DID EXCELLENT CONSIDERING YOUR LAZY TRACK-RECORD AS WELL!” Papyrus returns the pat as Sans cannot hold his balance from the brotherly shove. Doesn’t keep him from laughing it off. “I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM ALWAYS ONE TO AID MONSTER AND MAN!!” Papyrus gallantly poses towards the sun, you suppose, as he simply points to a window.

“’course bro. you ain’t no im- **paps** -ter.” Sans replies with a shrug, Papyrus’ eyes bulging comically out of their sockets as he cranes his neck dangerously around to glare at his brother.

“SANS YOU ARE RUINING MY MOMENT!!”

“y’think I did that on **pap** -ose? that’s **pap** -posterous.” Sans’ grin grows as you can’t hold back a snicker at the last pun. Papyrus throws his arms into the air with a shout before burying his muffled grumblings into his giant gloves. A hint of courage swells in your dulled humor.

“Don’t be upset, Papyrus. I’ll get you a **pap-** stry on the house.” You giggle behind your hand to hide your widening grin. Sans gives a lazy thumbs up as he chuckles into the collar of his hoodie while Papyrus gives you a betrayed glare.

“ENOUGH TOM-FOOLERY!!” Papyrus demands.

“didn’t know tom’s last name was foolery. good things to know.”

“Since when was Tom a jester?”

You and Sans both blunder into a fit of laughter as Papyrus tosses his scarf behind him and aggressively storms out of the store, standing by the window and impatiently tapping his foot against the concrete. He continues to shout something past the glass, but it is plenty more muffled then before – certainly not taking away from the loud aspect.

* * *

 

The police take their sweet time arriving to the scene which gives everyone a chance to calm down, collect the attackers into one area and calm down anyone – specifically Alphys. Although once Alphys realizes the danger has been dispersed, her eyes swell with amazement.

“Th-That was amazing! Y-Y-You f-flew over the counter j-just like Mew Mew from episode nineteen d-during the season three climax wh-where her bestie was kidnapped during the maid café hours so she took immediate pursuit because their friendship is a form of fu-“ Alphys begins to tangent wildly as you try to settle her down. The group hangs around to help testify the attack with you regarding the humans. Frisk gives you a thumbs up for your courage followed by an eyebrow waggle; you don’t fully understand why but you pray the child isn’t flirting with you again.

The police arrive, guns at the ready, and the group seems to obey all of their demands – likely run-ins with the biased force around here. Luckily, no monsters are arrested and watches are set up around monster-run/owned stores. Unfortunately though the incident puts a damper on Muffets business so you are sent home for the remainder of the day. Of course, Frisk clings to the chance of getting to talk to you more – which includes the fact that the family decided it was healthy to walk around the convention so they were all _walking_ home.

You were now simply shambling down the street trying to hide your vibrantly blushing face behind your thick brown hair as you try to imagine yourself in something far less revealing. Most of the group has processed ahead which puts you at minor ease. Of course, about 3 blocks towards the street and plenty of whistles later, you are keeping yourself hidden beside Papyrus desperately. At the very least he doesn’t comment on the outfit – simply your behavior.

“ARE YOU FEELING BETTER?” Papyrus’ skull tilts to the side, his brow bones knotting in the slightest concern.

“I’ll be better when I get home, lock myself in that room and never have eyes on me again…” You whimper while keeping your profile low. Papyrus gingerly holds your wrist and pulls you to the side of the sidewalk, letting the others advance without you both.

“Rea – you cannot run away from these things. It is scary, indeed, but the Great Papyrus, Undyne, and everyone will surely be there to support you – magic or not. Secluding yourself away from your issues accomplishes nothing.” Papyrus speaks evenly, stunning you into silence with his calmed voice. He pats your head attentively as you can’t help but bashfully pout the other direction; it felt like you were being treated as a child. The sentiment was honestly sweet though, fluttering a tiny flame in your heart – he was worried about such things while you were tense over how people viewed you. You nudge your elbow into his shirt and pressing against his ribcage.

“Thanks Papyrus. I’m not scared – It’s just a bit too new. But, for you, I’ll make an effort.” You reply with an earnest grin while sparkles begin to dance in Papyrus’ sockets before he triumphantly points to the sky.

“BUT OF COURSE – EFFORT IS THE FIRST STEP IN LIFE OF ADVANCEMENT!!” Papyrus cries out joyously before taking a single step and pressing a button. Following the pole the button is attached to, you are both waiting on the opposing side of a cross walk as the group waits on the other side. Papyrus seems proud of that single step as you can’t hide a dumb smile.

A horn is honked a few quick times from the street and before you can play it off as misconduct in traffic a holler of whistles roar out. Self-consciously you snag and try to drag down the back of your uniforms skirt which only presses your breasts mound higher into the specifically fit fabric. Your knuckles crack and threaten to tear the thin piece as Papyrus simply stands there unknowing.

_Effort…..huh…_

You release your skirt and bring your leg up and to your front, earning another nasty honk as Papyrus watches curiously. Cars begin to stop as the button finally processes through the stop-light system and halts traffic for the crossing. You vigorously yank off both of your heels, happy and relieved your blisters have air to breathe. You throw a confident grin and glare at Papyrus and get to your tippy toes to speak better to him while pointing to the opposing side of the crosswalk and your friends. The house isn’t far off.

“Race you home. Winner gets to help with dinner.” You declare. Papyrus’ sockets grow wide and then firm, but his boney smile is filled with certainty.

“VERY WELL! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL ACCEPT THIS CHALLENGE!!!”

Dashing off the pavement as fast as your tired pained feet can carry you, Frisk claps joyously and trails behind as you rush past the group – Papyrus feet ahead with his range of reach. While it was an effort to reach home faster to avoid even further cat-calling; you, haggard and heavy breathing while your feet popped with hints of pain, couldn’t wipe that silly smile off your face.

* * *

 

 Hours later a knock resonates off your door. Opening it wide you are slightly startled to find Frisk and Flowey waiting patiently – Flowey less so as his leaves are crossed in anger.

“Come on you idiot – dinners ready.” He grumbles without paying a hint of mind in your general direction. When he finally does pry a little eye open his leaves are thrown down in aggression. “You did it again!” He shouts angrily, “You and your weird disguise can’t just last all day, can it?!”

Reaching down you hastily flick the rude weed in the center of his face, knocking him back and ruffling his petals. Frisk doesn’t approve of either of your actions as you give an apologetic wave. You trudge downstairs with bandaged feet – Toriel refused to let you damage your feet any further after the running incident and you collapsing on the couch, breathing heavily, with stinging feet. The blisters had become quite the issue in a short amount of time, but you weren’t necessarily built for heels in the first place. Regardless, walking downstairs was tender on the heel and toes.

Frisk rushes in and into the dining room where you slug your own way to a chair just for you. It feels awkward because of the seating arrangement you find yourself in. Asgore and Toriel are each on the ends of the table to watch over anything that happens. Frisk is settle besides Toriel with Flowey, Papyrus in the center because he is the best for passing items around (and his need to be in the middle of friends) while you are placed next to Asgore. On the opposing side, Undyne is besides Asgore and across from you, Sans is directly next to her and across from Papyrus (the best reach can reach the worst reach, supposedly) and Alphys is on the farthest end by Toriel and across from Frisk and Flowey. It seems to be a balanced seating system – Toriel and Asgore watch over the table talk and antics, Alphys and Frisk are calmer in Toriels motherly presence, and Undyne and Papyrus are loyal to Asgore, therefore, don’t cause as much trouble likely. It hurts that you’ve screwed up their original seating arrangement – Papyrus and Frisk tended to have this side to themselves or the extra seat often was for whenever they had a visitor. Asgore relayed to not worry about the seating – Papyrus seemed calm enough with you beside him and then Asgore could keep a watchful eye over you.

You shrunk in size as you wondered how long the furry beast would consider you a threat while the food was lovingly passed around. Mindless chatter filled the silence you were used to, fresh home-cooked stuffing danced over your taste buds and warmed your chest with joy as you heartily scooped another spoon in your mouth with delight.

“Is it good?”

You snapped to attention with the spoon stuck out of your mouth to see Toriel waiting patiently for your reply; her eyes were squinting with knowing happiness as you hastily chewed and swallowed. To not interrupt or bring attention to yourself, you showed her a faint thumbs up in answer as she happily went on her merry way back to her seat to enjoy the dinner.

A snickering from across the way drags your attention to Undyne who grinning a tad too wide.

“Don’t you have any shame?” She snickers.

“Excuse me?”

“Can’t even keep a woman’s modesty?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You warn with confusion. Undyne snickers a little, Alphys turning slightly red on the sidelines and sweaty as Undyne passes you her phone – showing a picture. It’s a well-timed minimally blurred image of you from Alphys’ position at the booth snapping pictures. Sans’ skull is slightly beneath you after you vaulted over his luckily short stature and there is even a comical expression of panic on one of the attackers on the far left. Contemplating Undynes words, you look closer only to have a tint of blush dash across your cheeks; your skirt was perfectly flared to reveal your panties. It was fine, however, because Sans’ skull blocked it from…….the photo…….

Undyne’s giggling fit grows more in abundance and strength as the slow realization dawns over your face. Off the immediate memory of disrobing the minute you had privacy, you grumbled aggressively about the inappropriate undies you’d thrown on – thin and tight, blacker then the previous night.

Undyne pries her phone back from your tense grip while chuckling under her breath as you bring a menacing glare towards Sans. Atleast the _bastard_ is sweating as he silently chews on some broccoli. You attempt to stand and dual him right there and then, Asgore quickly noting your movements and resting a heavy hand on your shoulder. Your glare pierces his eyes which have turned hard like stone.

“I entrust you know better than to pick fights at the dinner table.” Asgore cautiously whispers, his eyes wandering off to meet with Toriels who is also aware of your attempted actions. You plop back down into your chair and hold your head in your hands, groaning with agitation. “Undyne, you would do well to not tease her so. “

“It ain’t teasing – it was an awesome action photo!!” Undyne can’t even properly finish the sentence without giggling after saying ‘action’. Asgore raises a suspicious brow at her as Alphys squirms guiltily in her seat. You grumbled and set aside that beating for later – if anything, you had to thank Alphys. You were completely unaware of that happening which then made it optional to beat the bones out of Sans.

Your phone played a familiar jingle as Papyrus and Sans began their usual antics. Rechecking that it was Mir calling through, you flip it open with relief that she is finally getting back to you regarding those previous texts. You cup the phone close to your left cheek and block your other ear to better hear.

“Mir, there better be a damned good reason you couldn’t just _text_ me like usual – I am kinda in the middle of…stuff.” You admit, not wanting to mention the dinner with the family. Mirage was an orphan from the get-go, but she insisted that the mages were enough family for her. It didn’t stop a pang of pain to cross her face at any mention of parents or siblings though; a family dinner chatter would surely set her off.

“Heeeh-heh……I must apologize..for having to call in your…….’free-time’?........But I require a report.”

Your face pales as you jump to your feet, flinching away from the table like it was a roaring flame. Asgore tries to catch you out of kindness, but the instant he reads your face his own writhes in confusion and pain. No words are exchanged as you leave the laughter behind and rush to the front door, out, and slamming it. You are certain Baysoph can hear the nervous shaking of your bones across the little device.

“I-um, there i-isn’t much to report sir.” You reply, trying to find a way around this without resorting to lying. Of course, Baysoph knew when you were hiding something – always. The more you could dance around Frisks existence the better.

“…Report regardless, dear.”

“Fine. I encountered Asgore, their king, and have settled myself among the monster ranks as a guard. I hope to learn more about the diversity and the reasons for hatred in general towards monsters – they seem like kind and gentle folk who want nothing more then smiles on others. Hard to believe the guys went through wars… Regardless, I have taken up residence in the kings abode with most of his trusted ‘cabinet’ in a sense. The humans here are crueler then I recall for this time-period and have been blatantly targeting monsters and monster owned establishments. I will need time to further assess the situation…” You mumble, putting slight distance between the house and yourself as you come to rest and squat on the sidewalk – anxiety writhing through your nerves. There is a long pause, faint scratches of aggressive writing and sigh.

“……I trust….that you plan to…..he-heh-heh explain that other mages _pres_ ence.”

Your world crumbles around you as you shiver to the newfound cold.

“….I can explain.” You whisper, trying to still yourself.

“Excellent. Return for now…….we will decide your actions later.” Baysoph replies as tears bite at your eyes.

“Sir, permission to remain here! I will tell you everything you need to know, I swear! Please, just-“

“Oh-hooo. It hee _-heeh_ \- it isn’t often you beg for something…” He murmurs in delight as you ball your shirt into your fist clutching at your center. You can’t even refute his claims – you are choking up over the phone.

“…. _Please_. H-Hear me out before you rush to ideas. And Zebb cannot know.” You plead.

“He will know sooner…….or later.” Baysoph warns.

“The later the better.” You reply.

“………….Very well. He-heeh-heh-hrm- but you are to report back now.”

“Yes sir. Thank you sir-“ “ _And_ whatever consequences this brings………… _its on your head._ ”

Your core trembles with fear – it was rare that death threats in the mage kingdom were made, and it was unheard of now. By implying death on another is to cease their bloodline of magic – yours wasn’t just something manually transferrable and optional mages these days were a needle in space.

“…Yes sir.”

The line drops dead and you let your arm dangle at its side as you gaze up into the faint starry sky. You glance down towards your phone and the SAVE star strapped as an accessory. Gulping heavily to the point of no return you flick the star as an overwhelming hope rushes over you.

“Save this moment…” You mutter to yourself, a faint beeping noise resonating in the air, and the moment dying along with the warmth. You steel your feet and trudge back inside, wiping the tear stains out of your eyes.

Laughter washes over you as you near the dining table while your face remains rugged and cold. You refuse to keep the disguise up – it’s pointless. Asgore spies you and a grin breaks across his beard as he gestures you back towards your chair. Your mouth tightens and dries as you try to find a way to explain – to ease the pain. He stands to meet your silence and shambles over to your side.

“What has happened? Why do you make this face?” He asks quietly, not wanting to disturb the others.

“……They know.” You mutter as his fur begins to pale. “It’s my fault. I’m being summoned back. I need to tell him everything, Asgore, o-or else he’ll-“ Tears prickle in your eyes again as the frustration cracks the knuckles that form fists. Asgore pulls you closer and into a giant fuzzy hug, smothering you in fabric and fur as your tears dry against his shirt.

“…I believe there aren’t words that can help for this situation. Just…be brave and…have hope.” He whispers, leaning back to meet your eyes. His trust and family is in _your_ hands – it makes you want to vomit with anxiety. Asgore turns to the rest of the table who has shushed to his overbearing presence.

“The mages are aware of Frisk.” He announces, the table tensing as you stand there slightly dumbfound. “I trust Rea to return to her people and try to amend things so we may keep this peace. Regardless, we must keep watch over him at every moment.” Asgore pats Frisks head before the child plops his little feet onto the ground and rushes into your mid-section seeking an embrace. You pull your arms around the child as they whisper through their soul.

“ _Come home soon_.” Frisk pleads with puppy eyes shrouded by their bangs. You wipe the bangs away and pats their head, kissing the crest of their forehead.

“I’ll try buddy. I…I can’t promise I’ll make it back, but I _promise_ I will do whatever I can to make sure you stay here.” You reply, the child snuggling closer. You relinquish them before pestering them back to Asgores side, Toriel joining from the sidelines. Everyone seems to stand in a bidding of farewell as you offer a sad smile before ripping open a tear.

“not even a goodbye?” Sans asks from the silence.

“A goodbye indicates that I am leaving for a long time. If I said goodbye, it would make it true – which is impossible because I have to pummel you for that _earlier_ incident.” You hiss while already eager to forget it. You catch Undyne snickering in the back. You glance back to meet all of their eager gazes.

“Besides, I never even said _hi_ to you guys when I first showed up – I just kinda jumped on into this……family.” The word welled a tender spot in your heart. Tears dared to fall down your cheek.

“…So….Hi.” You mutter with a wave and vanish into the Void.

You are a silent whimper in the vastness; your gravity defying tears littering its endless space.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. Hi. Leave your totally angry and/or unsatisfied comments below =) I appreciate it.
> 
>  
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> [ Check out the Official Tumblr Page ](https://blbf-fanfic.tumblr.com/)


	12. Time for Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rea reaches the edge of a anxiety attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I got this shit done in 2 days.  
> Holy crow.  
> I wanna commit seppuku fam.  
> Sorry for the delay on chapters guys!! I got super sick and things with the collab are momentarily slow!  
> I'm hoping atleast two chapters per month if not more but I can't promise anything considering work will be starting back up!!
> 
> Thank you for all your support and I hope you enjoy the read~
> 
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> **In the end notes is a link to my friends start at trying to sell plushies. Any recognition or support you guys can give her would be just phenomenal!! Jump to the end notes if at all interested!!**

Forcing your eyes to dry as your destination comes into view isn’t simple. The overwhelming anxiety in this simple report could easily give you a heart-attack. If you weren’t able to convince Baysoph……they would, essentially, abduct Frisk away from his universe. Baysoph simply couldn’t comprehend how vital the family was to Frisk’s mental and emotional well-being with all his age and wisdom. Then again, there had never been something like this. _You_ had never been through something like this, and only you would; it was your job, basically.

Touching down on the formal platform as you shove your forearm into your eyes, a harrowing thought crosses your mind.

 _If this Frisk is a mage……if…if I move to an alternative universe where which Frisk and monsters exist, will it be the same? No, regardless of monsters, would Frisk still be a mage? Would moving about and making this discovery not put_ every _Frisk in danger?!_

The image of Frisk being pulled from Toriels sobbing embrace nearly sends you off into a sob. Forcing it down with a hard sniffle does the key as you implore your mind to stop thinking. It would get you nowhere to consider the possibilities this instant.

Ascending the stairs towards the crumbling marble pillars, you walk into the engraved arches. The tingling sensation of strong magic floods your soul with quelled fear.

 _It is all about intent_. _You should be afraid._

Your head holds strong as you glare towards the library. Running your hand along the black and white uneven stones, you suck in a heavy air. Baysophs radiating energy is zapping out of the library doors – normally, it wasn’t physically perceivable. You could almost taste the copper of blood in your mouth from memories; unpleasant, of course. While Zebb had trained you, Baysoph was the one who ‘punished’ any misdemeanors and failures. Of course, Zebb did that only if he knew. But Baysoph _always_ knew, so there was no escaping.

Suppressing the rising shiver you press into the library door and allow it to swing open and wide. It was only Baysoph. You’d take it. Approaching, you kneel in respect – most the time, it was unnecessary. Now it felt like a life or death choice. Baysophs whited eyes pierced through the darkened library.

“Baysoph. I have returned.” You state formally.

“You should understand by now the consequences of your actions.” His voice is thick and ready to aggress at any moment. Verbal magic, verbal assault, just screams, anything.

“I cannot fathom a proper apology, sir. I don’t know the words to express it.”

“Start from the beginning…” You dare not return from your kneeling position but meet his lifeless eyes. You’d never perceive this being of power to constantly pretend to be a weak, insane, elderly pervert.

“Reality 139. I began at the Mt. Ebott for the barrier mending, but it was already shattered. Thanks to the locals,” you hoped he didn’t ask about Jerry, “I was able to pinpoint and converse with the still living King of Monsters – Asgore Dreemurr. They were able to survive beneath Ebott thanks to adaption and the waste deposited on their mountain that would soon be discarded within. Along with the King I met the Queen and a variety of their protectors: the Captain of the Royal Guard, their Royal Scientist, the Judge of humans, a friendly guard and robot actor who revive monster hope within humanity, and the royalties adopted child who freed the Underground and overtook the role of Monster Ambassador – Frisk Kaffley.”

“Frisk fled their parents housing and wound up falling into Ebott, befriending the monsters to the point of considering them family before their biological care-takers and was adopted with them. Currently the Kaffleys are pressing charges of kidnapping, but Frisk chooses the monsters freely. I did side research regarding the Kaffleys – they have mage ancestors, but the line was cut long ago. Where his magic streams from is uncertain.”

“After I discovered the capabilities of Frisk and informed his ‘family’, I took it upon myself to monitor his growth and abilities. He has potential, Baysoph, but not here. He will not thrive here and will cause nothing but destruction. He harbors an internal hatred that can, if harnessed, parallel my own. The issue is he cannot control it. His Usemia practically glows while his Eskaria is miniature. It is expected; he is but a child with no understanding over the power he yields. Children are very emotional, and the weight of Ambassador and the political troubles regarding his actual family past the bullying of other students? I am surprised there has yet to be a public incident.” You sigh, standing as the pressure from Baysoph runs off your shoulders. He drags his hand towards his chin in thought.

“There has been incidence?”

“Yes, only once. It was a school related issue. I practiced that technique you’ve used on me in the past to dispel his aggression. I messed it up, unfortunately, and my arm has been twitchy. Baysoph, it was pure malice. Red and white lightning like nothing I’ve-“ You can’t fully explain the workings of Frisks magic as Baysoph raises a hand to silence you. He mulls over it a moment; his wheelchair creaks as it rolls down a ramp and stops beside a bookshelf while he fiddles.

“…It had two colors?” Baysoph insists as you nod. He bites his lip, flipping through passages and pictures. He grumbles and leans back with a hard breath.

“The kid’s possessed.”

“P-…Possessed?”

“Yeah.” Baysoph spins around to display the picture on the page. It’s a human with a shadow figure behind him reaching towards the soul. “Possessed or haunted individuals share the strongest trait emotion with the entity attached to ‘em.”

You ponder if Frisk has shown any possession signs and your mind nearly blanks with whiplash as you recall the first day you moved into the Dreemurrs housing.

 _The diary_.

“Chara…” You whisper as the pieces fit together. Frisk had wildly scrawled into that book of Flowey and Chara working with them in the Underground. How ‘she’ was talking to them. Chara was, from what you gathered, the first daughter of the royal family past Asriel, their biological prince. Both were _dead_.

“Chara?” Baysoph asks.

“The Dreemurrs adopted daughter. Similar to Frisk, she was a human child who fell into the Underground. She died of sickness when she was young. Frisk talks about her in his diary.” A hard snicker worms its way out of Baysoph as he raises an incredulous eyebrow.

“Hehe….you poked through a kids diary?” You unintentionally groaned.

“You’re hardly one to comment about that to _me._ ”

A stilled silence occurs as you gaze at the harrowing page and picture he still has displayed.

“…Will Fri-“ “What do you plan to do?” He cuts you off as your eyes widen. He…….was asking _your_ personal opinion? He could make out the stupefied gaze looking back at him, but he kept silent.

“…….Frisk needs to stay with them. Bringing him here would be counter-productive. Zebbulon cannot know of his existence – he will corrupt him. If I entrusted him with anybody, it would be Mirage. It doesn’t change my mind; he stays there with-“ you nearly say monsters, but your emotions get the better of you, “his family.”

The clock chimes out, not that it mattered. You are positive he kept the clocks to remind him that time was always an existent thing everywhere else. You don’t flinch or blink as you gaze into the empty eyes. His wheelchair trudges forward on its own as he nears you. The action is quick; his hand propels up, squeezes your chin, and drag you level to his face. Both of you are aware of your quivering legs. He is reading the determination in your eyes. A sickly grin worms onto his face.

“Alright girl. I will make you a deal. One you _can’t_ refuse.”

It was literal. You inhaled through your nose as the tension rose. A snapping string could result in you dead.

“Prove to me the child stays. We’ll go there – everyone but Zebbulon. We’ll arrive, time wise, tomorrow. Arrange a meeting. I don’t care who else comes aside from the royals and the child. A title doesn’t make you any less a pawn.” He snickers sinisterly as he angles your head oddly.

“You don’t get to say shit about whether he stays or goes. It will be a vote. I haven’t decided what will happen if we choose to let him stay, but if he comes with us……… _you will pay the price long intended._ ” He warns as you audibly gulp. _Breeding_. _Death. Your fate._

“What do you say?”

“…When do we tell them.”

 

* * *

 

 

“This is insanity.” Mir whimpers as you all approach the landing pad. You, Baysoph, Forge, and Mirage all gather together. Baysoph wasn’t giving them much choice in staying or going – he was the law. He’d slipped back into his weird dying old man vibe, but you kept up the formal appearance.

“Hmm…” Ah, Forge. Always silent.

“Haahaa, shut it……it’ll be _grand_.” Baysoph motions for you to start – you grab onto Mir who is hasty to nearly koala your side as she looks on with trepidation into the between. Forge just silently holds the bars of Baysophs wheelchair.

“No it won’t! We _aren’t_ supposed to do this!!” Mir cries and snuggles into your shoulder.

“Mir, calm down. I won’t let anything happen to you in there. It’s going to be a quick visit, then we’ll bring you right back. Would I lie to you?” You ask. She fixes a flat glare at you from your shoulder in a cute manner.

“Yes…” You stifle a giggle as Baysoph guffaws.

“Okay, would I lie to you about your own well-being?” You attempt. She pouts and buries herself further into your arm.

“Lead the way…..deearrrieee.” Baysoph coo’s as you sigh. This was bound to be a disaster.

Everyone floated along awkwardly. To ensure everyone stayed together you hooked your free hand onto Baysophs wheel. On your left arm Mir clung with her eyes tightly wound shut. Your right arm reached backwards and wound into Baysophs wheel who looked quite pleased at the travel. Forge was a blank slate of emotions, but he also kept his eyes closed the entire trip.

Once popping through to the other side, you found yourselves in the wooded area you and Frisk had gotten lost in. Mir disconnected from you quickly and grappled onto the first thing she could – a tree. She gasped with realization and stood back, marveling at the towering nature surrounding her. Her eyes glowed. Even Forge let a little gasp escape. Baysoph took a hearty breath of the fresh air.

“ _Aaa_ aaaahh……when was the…..last time…..in reality?” He tries to recollect as he gazes upwards at the sky. You were so accustomed to the open space you’d forgotten – Mir and Forge haven’t been outside in the base in decades.

“Okay. We’ll do exploring later. Right now, everyone needs to look human. I’m….I’m going to call them up.” You indicate towards your phone before sneaking away behind a tree to let them accommodate. Once out of eye and ear range, you dial the phone with trepidation. How would you even explain this?

“Hello?” You’d called the house phone because you wanted to initially see if anybody was home in the first place. It was the weekend – there had to be someone home. Undyne, of course, is the one to answer.

“Hey, uh, Undyne. Its Rea.” You mutter.

“Oh!! Damn, you’re back? Where you at? That was quick!” She laughs as the bark sinks into your spine.

“Oh, uh, out. Um, is, uh, Asgore there? Or Toriel?”

“Mmm, everyone’s home. Lot more anti-monster stuff going down so all of us got lucky days off.”

“Oh, um, g-great? I, well, it _isn’t_ great but I really need to talk to Asgore. Can you get him on the phone, please?” You ask politely.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Undyne hesitated. You couldn’t get out of the formal and polite mindset with Baysoph so close by. Every interaction counted. “Yo, Asgore! Ya got an idiot on the phone who’s name sounds like Pea!!” She shouts and you nearly face-palm.

“Pea? Really?” Undynes response is a snicker. A moment passes where the fur brushes against the phone.

“Hello?”

“Well, there’s good news and awful news.” His sigh drowns through the phone. You can imagine it now – either his head is against the wall or his free paw is running over his face.

“Is it not supposed to be good and bad?” He pleads.

“Uh, no, it’s awful. Terrible seemed like a stretch; its only-“ You check your clock and wince, “-damn it’s not even noon. Damn it all Bay…” You grumble. Baysoph had insisted on speeding the time-frame to catch them the next day after learning of your departure time.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing.” You wince. Had you called that out loud?

“Well, uh, it has been a long morning. Perhaps the good news would be better to start this conversation.”

“Right! Well, I talked to the keeper of the HQ – the most powerful of all of us. The fact I am calling you makes this already great considering I am not dead. He didn’t insist on Frisk being taken to HQ.”

“Oh. That is good. I am glad you are safe……….Oh just tell me what’s wrong now. I can’t take it later.” Asgore sighs in defeat. The poor giant just wasn’t getting a break.

“In order to come to a final conclusion, he and the _other_ mages are now in this universe, want to meet you and Frisk, and will decide _then_ whether or not they will take Frisk. This also decides whether or not I will be forced into breeding, so, uh, no pressure.” You nervously giggle.

“ _What?!?_ ” He shrieks. The echo in the forest is probably loud enough for the others to catch. You hadn’t expected him to shout, but soon after you hear the anxious moans of defeat.

“Asgore? What is wrong?” Toriels voice resonates in the background. “Gorey??” _Woah_ , you wonder, _is that his flipping pet name? ‘Gorey’?!_

It takes plenty of self-control to not start sputtering and giggling. His paw covers the phone as he begins to gingerly explain the incoming predicament. She must rush off and inform the others as Undyne’s battle cry booms out of the house. Another moment before the fur brushes the phone.

“What…what do you predict will occur?”

“Well, there are good points to this. Sorta. The mage we cannot let know about this still doesn’t know, so even if this is successful, I am positive they won’t tell him of the discovery. Mirage can go either way, Forge can go either way, but Baysoph is just in it for the power. They’ll be super fussy and touchy of him, but they won’t upright steal him. There is honor in this. Sorta. He’s gotta stay strong; everyone does. I’m in the woods with them. I can make the excuse if you guys want to meet anywhere specifically. Home turf and what-not. We’re in the forest by Ebott currently making them look more…human.” You wince, peeking back. Mirage still couldn’t get her hair set. Forge certainly couldn’t fix his staggering size, build, and numerous scars. Baysoph wore glasses and was probably going to pretend to be a blind old man. _Creep_.

“Uh, the park? Can we meet in the park? It’s more spacious-“ Asgore starts as you instantly piece it together.

“And public. Even humans have to get punished if they try to steal the Monster Ambassador.”

“Precisely. Are the others alright to come, and if not, loom in the shadows incase anything goes wrong?”

“Honestly? The more the merrier. Just try and keep Undynes aggressiveness on a down low. Baysoph has a history of dealing with people with unruly tempers.” You wince at the memories.

“We’ll make it seem like a picnic. Just like the time we met you.” Asgore announces.

“Except instead of one mage, theres four~” You sing with anxiety. “….I won’t lie Asgore. I have no clue what will happen. Just…trust in me. I won’t let Frisk go without a fight, I swear it.”

“I…believe you. When will you arrive?”

“We’ll make our way to the park soon. Someone text me when you all get there so we don’t arrive before you. I’ll distract them, though it should be easy considering they haven’t left the damn HQ in eons.” You huff.

“Okay. Stay safe.”

The flat-line tone is the indicator to get moving. At least the city is within sight so you needn’t worry about popping through the void or getting lost in the forest once more. Baysoph didn’t know about the forest incident. You didn’t need to give him another reason to laugh at your directional stupidity.

Spinning around to the group, it was a nightmare to behold. They were all _strange_.

Forge had thick tough tan skin with a multitude of scars distributed over his entirety. His dark ginger hair spiked upwards while some bangs hung like hooks over his ears. Blue eyes pierced you, though you knew he was as gentle as giant. He had to be pushing 8 feet. It didn’t help his muscles got accentuated – he’d chosen a white tank top and camo pants that ran down to his casual sandals. He was a mess if you’d ever seen one, but any one glance at his muscles and girls would probably melt at the beefy barbarian strolling the sidewalks.

Baysoph had taken up a proper suiting at least – his thick grey and tinted blonde hair hung back in a ponytail, the rest left unmanaged and mangled beneath a grey bowler hat. He wore a white and green sweater vest with a black button up below that cuffed at his elbows to show the wrinkled skin and extruding veins. Made it effortless to direct his hits if he could properly make his arm out. He wore dark brown dress-pants with suitable grey loafers. Heavy glasses rested on his nose with his whited eyes hidden behind. There was a noticeable minimal effort to make it seem like grey pupils rested within, but the glasses did their job and hid it well.

Mirage was never one for a lot of clothes to begin with, but she was pushing it. Her hair was a beige brunette shade and it nearly reached her thighs with its length and curls. Her petite pale face sported iridescent blue eyes and a toothy smile. Her top was little more than a crop top navy blue vest fashioned beneath a white short sleeved cardigan, and a frilled little skirt of pale blue and green polkadots covered her hips. For no reason she had orange suspenders coming over and connecting to a jeweled belt holding the skirt up. The most casual part of her outfit were the milk chocolate brown wedges and silk white socks.

You followed suite with them and returned to a more human appearance – brown hair you decided to let loose for once that hung over your shoulders. A simple v-neck with music notes adorning it and loose low hanging sleeves that reached your elbows. A leather belt held up the pale jeans you’d chosen along with the monotone sneakers.

Mirage let excitement overwhelm her as she propelled forward into your arm to hug and grapple.

“We look like sisters!! I’m so excited!” Mirage wiggled and giggled at your side. A little clatter caught your eyes as Forge hoisted Baysoph over his broad shoulder and snatched up the wheelchair. He couldn’t move it through the forest. What little sense of realism was gone as you watched him effortlessly begin to lug you all towards the streets.

“Okay. Real names are a no go. We don’t want any complications with the universe, so fake names and pasts are a requirement.”

“Heeee……fair enough.” Baysoph resigns with a sigh. He’d accept these rules because it was too long since he’d been in the mortal world.

“Mirage, your new name is Mira. You are my younger sister who dreams of becoming a florist. You live in Michigan usually but came to visit. Our parents don’t exist, so we fake a car accident with them.”

“Yay! Wait, is that a yay?” She asks perplexedly.

“Whatever you want to perceive it as.”

“Yayy!!”

“Forge, your name is Tacacion, but we call you Tic-Tac. You’re an underground body builder who takes part in fighting rings. You’re our cousin who is more resigned but came because we are trying to cure your fighting ring habit.”

Forge gives a nod of understanding.

“Baysoph, your name is Basil. You were previously a science professor and you are our great grandfather. You’re fine to be delusional because everyone will just think you have Alzheimer’s.” You sigh and he gives a little laugh. Hidden behind a tree, Baysoph is settled back into his wheelchair that Mirage takes up to push him along. You and Forge linger in front to guide the way and disperse passer-bys with his size.

“Alright…..lets go.”

 

* * *

 

 

You didn’t predict how many times you’d have to rush to catch each of them before they lost themselves in stores or stands – hell, even the crowds somehow managed to swallow them out of your sight when it really mattered. How could you lose Forge?!

Mirage was completely captivated by the artistry and style of the world around her and often wound up dragging Baysoph with her, not that he minded. Atleast they had human money and weren’t straight grabbing items and running off with them; you didn’t dare ask where they received the money however. Forge attempted to walk straight into a gun store which you quickly derailed with persistent yanking.

As you’d anticipated, Forge and Mirage had many instantaneous offers at friendship, even light confessions of ‘at first sight’. Each deterred conversation brought sick pleasure to Baysoph who didn’t play the blind man very well. Often you found him slumped down and looking to others, namely girls, for assistance. You ensured Mirage at the very least wasn’t close enough to ever help.

Toriel had texted you a picture of them all set up in the park nearly 10 minutes ago. You texted her you were struggling to bring them to the location due to ‘distractions’. Of course, everyone showed up. Frisk appeared to be kicking their feet beneath the picnic table patiently with Flowey bickering from your own assumptions. Papyrus was occupying Undyne with football tossing from the looks of it. Toriel set up a nice little picnic blanket that Asgore and Sans were laid out on, Asgore choosing to be face down. He’d likely screwed the public appearances and was faster then Sans to accept the wondrous escape of sleeping. When you asked how Asgore was holding up, Toriel replied that he’d been upset but would pull through. She also mentioned how he wouldn’t admit how terrified he was for you regarding the breeding issue. It warmed your heart just a little before you had to wrench Mirage out of the pet store.

After another agonizing 10 minutes of looking for the park, Papyrus’ invigorated laugh roars out from the center as the familiar scene plays out. You take a breath and gather everyone together in a more isolated location.

“Okay. Asgore agreed to the terms of you guys meeting them and they were all at the park when I called. They brought extra food so we can have lunch, that doesn’t permit you to eat the entire box of it. We are human. We are natural. No weird groping, touching, screaming, no cursing AT all, and no terrifying the poor guys. Asgore’s had a _shit_ week.”

“Heeha……very….welll.” Baysoph shrugs.

“…..Okay.” Forge speaks in a hushed manner. You are surprised Mirage isn’t one to hastily voice her agreements with your decree. Glancing around, you catch why. She is already rushing the hill. Throwing your head into your hands, you groan until it nearly becomes a roar and you dash across the separating intersection.

“Tic-Tac please take the cross-walk!!!” You scream back as you chase after Mirage.

“Kids! Lil bitty adorable lil-“ Mirage squealed with unconfined excitement. She’d had this incredible need to interact with children. You didn’t blame her- the outside world wasn’t the only rarity mages stumbled upon.

“Mira, wait!!” You shout out. Toriels head is already in your viewpoints as she is looking towards the approaching noise. She vaulted high into the air, obviously using magic to keep her afloat, before dive bombing out of sight followed by a loud screech. You pounded up the hill to an odd sight.

Mirage had a koala grip around the entirety of Frisk which was odd because she was bigger then him so he was completely enveloped in her. She was nuzzling his hair with her nose and running her hands along his cheeks. Everyone besides Toriel and Undyne were stupefied to the point of being frozen.

“Ooooo _ooohhh_ LOOKIT YOU!! You lil cutie patootie! I could just eat you up!! Oooohh CAN WE PLEASE KEEP HIM!? HE IS SO CU-“ “MIRA!!!” You shout which startles everyone around you. She looks up happily at you with a twinkle in her eye before bounding over with Frisk in her clutches – dazed and red with embarrassment. She did have him just pressed into her breasts.

“Lookit! He has incredible bone structure! OOOOOHH I wanna take him home and give him cupcakes- oh we can make a new room and get that wood polisher for his little room and we are going to have so many stuffed animals-“ She continues to ramble aimlessly as you manage to pry Frisk from her clutches. He gives an appreciative look before you grab both of her shoulders and shake violently.

“What did I literally just say about weird groping?!” You shout as she laughs happily at the jostling.

“Um, R-Rea?” Alphys’ voice cuts in and you look to the group. Frisk was kept safe besides Papyrus’ femur and look on curiously to the giddy individual in your grasp. Asgore has wound up sitting properly with his legs crossed on the blanket with Sans leaned back indolently. This isn’t how you’d planned for this to commence as you sigh and resign.

“Mira, these are the monsters. That’s Frisk. No more touching.” You plea as she gives a rapid nod and cranes her neck to look at the group. She gasps and begins to jump with more invigoration.

“ooooh-kay, who’s your pal?” Sans cuts through the others and Papyrus begins to glow with as much delight as Mirage.

“Skeletons…” She whispers breathlessly, her eyes glowing with wonder.

“HELLO TINY HAIRY HUMAN!! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS! WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO TAKE OUR MONSTER AMBAS- HOLY SPAGHETTI!!” Papyrus shouts with awe as he cranes his head upwards.

“…Child…” It’s Forge. Asgore stands and, as you’d predicted, Forge is taller then the burly king. You notice Forge has both hands at his side as you freeze.

“Tic-Tac, where is Baysoph?” You ask quietly, looking around for the freaky old man. Forge points directly behind him at the beginning slope of the hill, his eyes widening in realization. Reaching your tippy toes brings the sight of Baysoph barreling backwards down the hill with a surprised face. You gasp in alarm, detach from Mirage, and sprint back the way you had come. Baysoph’s wheelchair slams before you can reach into a telephone pole which briefly wiggles but doesn’t fall much to your relief. It doesn’t appear that he was even witnessed.

“Basil, you alright?” You shout as you rush to his side.

“I ain’t in the grass………heheeee so yes.” He snickers with a devilish grin as you grumble and push him back up the hill. There was a lot of chatter going on, light screams as well.

“Dammit Mirage..” You mumble beneath your breath. Of course Forge probably had no issues lugging Baysoph up the hill, but with you it was a different story. Struggling to bring the snickering elder up the slope once more, you can hear Papyrus laughing maniacally. Huffing and focusing on the endurance, you peak the top of the hill at last.

Papyrus and Mirage are doing some strange hug and dodge dance with each other, but it’s clearly playful. Sans and Alphys are clearly daunted by the overbearing stature and size of Forge as they have to back up to simply see his towering face. Forge has Frisk raised like that scene from the Lion King, and he is just out of Asgore’s reach. Undyne is trying to hide a scowl at the intimidating size of Forge, but you can feel the edge in her bite.  

“Hey! Put him the hell down, ya giant!!” She warns, her fists forming in a much less playful manner. Forge ignores her. You whisk Baysoph towards the tree to ensure he didn’t descend the hill again before coming up behind Forge. He was too preoccupied with Frisk and was zoning out again so you took matters into your own hands. Figuratively. Tugging on his shirt for a test of strength you snag your leg at the base of his thigh before rapidly scaling his back like a wall. He doesn’t flinch as you hook both your arms onto his shoulder and dangle momentarily. He was built like stone. You grievingly sigh at all the exertion you’d been suffering through so recently. Sans’ sputters his laughter to seeing you actually _climbing_ the towering beast providing him shade. Hooking your arm around his neck, you manage to drag yourself back up the rest of him. Even Frisk is giggling while held up to the sun like a sacrifice. Your legs hang around his shoulders in similar fashion to that of a child on their fathers shoulders, before you lay yourself over his head. It catches his attention, as usual.

“Tic-Tac, what’d I say about touching? Please put him down.” You insist, motioning to Frisk. He blushes with minor embarrassment before nodding very rigidly and gingerly placing the child back down besides Asgore. Frisk looks up at giant and you wave before Forge awkwardly fiddles in his pockets, produce a pixie stick, and hands it to Frisk. Frisk eyes Asgore for permission as he gives a nervous nod. Frisks glowing smile cracks a little smile along Forge’s face as Frisk takes the sugar treat and dashes off to show Toriel who is trying to understand Mirage and Papyrus’ odd game.

Forge grabs your legs abruptly, rushing you past his head and dangling towards the ground as he grasps your angles. Sans can’t help the quaking laughter that roars out of him as he watches the behemoth hold you like a ragdoll and you just casually cross your arms.

“……..Why climb?”

“You weren’t listening to anybody. Focus, Forge.” You implore with a pat to his outer thigh. He gives another blush and nod before throwing you into the air where you spin upwards like a light switch and return to earth to be caught in a princess style. He always had a strong flair. Setting you down, you straighten the loosened hairs as you glare at the giggling Sans. Alphys looks terrified of the towering beast and sticks close to Undynes side who is also starting to crack a comedic smile.

“Uh, everyone, this is Tic-Tac. He makes the weapons and-“ “his name is friggin tic-tac?!? PPFFF-“ Aaannndd there goes Sans again. You glare again as he steadies himself with the picnic table. “-and capsules.” You finalize.

“O-O-O-h-oh u-u-uh-uh h-hi-hi….” Alphys mutters as she slowly sneaks behind Undyne for protection she doesn’t require. Asgore extends a hand towards him.

“Hello. I am Asgore, King of the Underground. I vaguely recall giant mages, but I am surprised they have thrived til this point. Your numbers dwindled back during the war from my recollection.” Asgore adds, Forge accepting his hand and shaking slowly.

“……..War….is tough…….Sorry for your loss.” His sentences are short, quiet, but true. You respect Tic-Tac a lot for everything he does, talkative or not. You get enough of that with Mirage. Speaking of, Sans doesn’t seem worried about Papyrus in the slightest considering Forge has his undivided attention. You assume he trusts her with him, which was perfectly sensible. He could sense souls, and Mirage certainly didn’t have a count like your own. Undyne wouldn’t stop staring and sneering.

“Did you need anything or are you just going to continue gawking?”

“eh-heh. probably the **ladder**.” Sans quips. You could bash your head into the ground with infuriation.

“Sans, please.” You beg, unable to handle anything going about the moment.

“I’m sorry – are my puns too **tall** an order for you? I’ll summar- **size** it if I must. you bring me tall people, I make **small** jokes.” He wiggles his brow bones with enjoyment as you bury your face into Forges top.

“I hate you so much right now.” You muffle into his abs. There is suddenly a whiz of magic coursing through the air from in front and behind. Spinning about, Forge has summoned out a two-handed battle hammer and keeps you protected close to him. Glancing upwards, his piercing eyes are focused onto Sans who is now also getting cover from Undyne who materialized a spear. You can feel his bone crackling energy leaking from behind Undyne as Alphys scurries towards Toriel.

“Woah, Forge, Forge! Matter of speech! Don’t hate!! Chill! We are doing the human thing, remember? Humans don’t have giant bloody hammers!” You grapple his neck to regain his attention. Forge was far too protective for his own good. He’d cared for you since you were small, and was the nicest adult you’d had the pleasure of interacting with. He was short-spoken, but it didn’t change his slow-mindedness. He paused, pressed a button on the hammer, and it split into dual hammers.

“Cool trick. How ‘bout I show you one too?” Undyne hissed.

“Forge! That’s not what I meant!! No weapons! Please put them away…” You sigh with defeat. There hadn’t been much talking and already it was going awry.

“ _Heeheheeeeheeh_ …” The disturbing breathing laughter finally pulls Forge free from his defensive state and take in the existence of Baysoph. He looked haggard, but intrigued. Undyne froze up before her spear vanished and she scratch her forehead.

“Hey, uh, old man, you lost?” Undyne offers as Baysoph breathes the fresh air heavily.

“No wonder…….he _heeh_ you’re the captain……. _You’re temper is short and volatile._ What a shame……..thought the king was wiser with……vital decisions.…” Baysoph whispers with a devilish grin. Undynes eye twitched with anger and you propelled forward, blocking his vision of her.

“Hey. This isn’t about them. We’re here to vote. Let’s please just get this over with.” You plead with a confident smile. It’s a total front, honestly. Baysoph didn’t handle disobeyers nicely, and even less so those who went against his words. Her giving into anger was a death ticket.

“this dude with you? he’s off his **rocker**. better go find it.” Sans snickers and you could honestly punch him directly in the socket.

“Forge……picnic blanket, please.” Baysoph motions for Forge to move away. He obeys and there is tension once more.

Asgore is left there standing rigid at the elder.

“Ah, your……. _majeessttyyy_.” Baysoph’s wheels move forward without a guide to push. Undyne keeps trying to push you out of the way as Asgore gives a calming motion from behind. Baysoph gave a bow in his chair, his teeth tight in a grin. “This pleasure…….is _simply shattering_ …….hehe- the world around me.” He extends a hand. Asgore doesn’t take it. He knows better. At the very least Asgore knew this man wasn’t to be trifled with or trusted. Sans must not have a clear view towards his soul because Baysoph would give him a figurative heart attack. Asgore was paling to the point of one. An awkward moment later he retracts his extended limb.

“Wise king………you’ll thank me when…….this is over. I’ll be doing you a favor, sir.”

“What favor might that be, sir?” There is a bite to his words and addressing. Baysoph lives for it.

“Either……you keep the child…….or you _finally_ get rid of this pesky girl.” His grit smile and eyes dart to you standing your ground.

“Losing _Rea_ would be a travesty. She has been nothing but helpful.” Asgore speaks up, spitting your name in correction. It sparks a thump out of your chest and heart.

“Travesty would be her not being used for a better purpose. She will not simply rot here without reason.” His voice is sharp, his words the point. You can tell everyone goes cold to his depreciating words. It was a common occurrence you’d grown numb to. Undyne leans into your head.

“The fuck is up with this guy? He makes it sound-“ “Like you are property…..eh, Ms. Explosive?” He finishes her sentence with a murderous glint to his paled eyes, finally removing the glasses to reveal the white orbs of nothingness.

“It’s simple, fish. She is. I tell her to jump…” He inches forward, closer to Asgore. If he wasn’t in a wheelchair you’re certain his position and stance would be threatening. “She’ll fly til we cut off her wings. It’s how you learn obedience.”

“I’d have to disagree with that. I believe trust is a major key in those and she simply wanted to see how high she could ‘jump’. Freedom of perception.” Asgore growls.

“…….I’d like to see the child.” Baysoph whispers, looking to you. It’s an order. You shiver with understanding.

“Very-“ “I got it. I got it.” Undyne quickly pats your back to halt your sentence before rushing Frisk; they’d joined Mirage and Papyrus in their strange dancing game. You would thank her later for it. Sans stepped out from behind you and his sockets went dark and wide. Baysoph cleared his throat knowingly, blank eyes directing towards Asgore. Suppose you couldn’t avoid all of it…

“Ah, Asgore this is the current head of the Mage HQ, Baysoph Shuto.” You introduce Baysoph as Sans’ bones begin to rattle beside you. “Baysoph, this is the King of Monsters and Mountain, Asgore Dreemurr.”

“Thank you………..ah. You must…. _haaaheheee_ …..be Gasters boy.”

“ _what_.” Sans freezes up completely. Your worry suddenly spikes.

“Ahh…..I knew the whelp……….Heard he wound up……..shattered…….and dispersed……across the.….Girl.” Baysoph demands your attention even though you want to help Sans. He is visibly shivering rather harshly. You didn’t even know skeletons _had_ parents. “Have you seen……..any-he _heeee_ \- _blackness_ in the……void?”

“Shadows aren’t discernable, so no.” You quip as his grin drips. He is _actually_ drooling.

“That’s because…………there is another place. A place with no return. _He_ went there.” You knew who _he_ was. The only man in the HQ when you were young who gave you hope of a new life. He’d vanished without so much as a trace or almost memories. Only you and Baysoph recalled him, but never uttered his name around the others. It felt as though he was a lost phantom who would follow the call of his name. “Blacker then a sea of tar. True emptiness and shadow. It has no name because it isn’t perceived. Any swallowed by it are forgotten and dispersed into nothingness.”

“Oh……….Oh!” You smack your head for remembering. Baysoph had been teaching you how to travel the between when you stumbled upon it. A _crack_. It was oozing something like ink. Touching it resulted in an immediate pull, but your other half got grabbed by Baysoph before it swallowed you whole. You looked into nothing but blackness. That is when you understood the truest perils of the void, and tamed it.

“Well, boy, I’ll make you a deal as well.” Baysoph smirks at Sans who blinks and the lights for his eyes are tiny; quivering. “The girl _knows_ how to get there. She’s seen it. Should the vote be in _our_ favor, send the girl there. If she manages to return your father, you can keep the child.” His words are like poison that begins to fester in Sans’ mind. He is contemplating his every word. You might prefer being forgotten over breeding, but you didn’t know the extent of being lost in complete blackness. Was it the same as the void – emptiness and solitude? Or worse? It was clearly ‘punishment’ enough if Baysoph was suggesting it for your price.

“What is the point of the vote, then? If she can return your father, shouldn’t this be good?” Asgore asks with confusion. He was without understanding to the voids workings.

“That nameless darkness is a taker, Asgore. If something leaves, something replaces it. It’s either I don’t come back or he comes back. Regardless, I’m gone.” You look to Sans. He drags his head up in immediate understanding. You could read it in his very face: “ _No wonder I couldn’t find him._ ” You decided not to bring it up. It seemed to be a sensitive subject; a miracle, actually, that he remembered his father at all. With Papyrus’ enthusiasm you had imagined he’d bring up parental figures, but you knew nobody. They were the only skeletons you knew of, and noone before had ever mentioned a Gaster.

“Eh-hem.” Undyne loudly clears her throat abruptly, gaining everyone’s attention. Frisk is holding her hand and eyeing the old man. Distrust glimmers in his tiny eyes.

“Ah…… _excellent_. Mirage. Forge. Come here please…” Baysoph’s voice resounds through the park as both mages spiral their heads before wandering over. “Girl-“

“On it.” You quip hastily, grabbing Undyne and Sans and giving big pleading eyes towards Asgore. He seems to understand that he intends for an analysis of Frisk. Sans is eerily silent and his pupils dilated as he gazes into nothingness.

“You deal with that _scumbag_ -“ “Undyne. Shush.” You plea as you drag them past the picnic table while the others gather around. You drag Undyne and Sans around to your front and Asgore stands beside you, Toriel behind him with Alphys and Papyrus catching up.

“Okay, because it concerns Papyrus foremost, you guys _cannot_ let him near Baysoph. The dude will verbally cut into him like butter and Papyrus will melt into a nothingness of sadness. Nobody wants to see skeleton tears today, so that is the game plan.” You quickly mutter to everyone and Sans regains his attention.

“he wouldn’t-“ “He would. You saw him. Usually I screw around with the dude because he is a weird perverted _creep_ , but this is a delicate situation and I know he could end my life in the flipping blink of an eye so I don’t want any sass. Undyne.” You spin in her direction, catching her off guard.

“I don’t mean it rudely, but I _really_ wish you hadn’t come. Baysoph doesn’t take misdemeanors or disobeyers kindly. No fighting. _No weapons_. Nada. From _anyone_. It’ll only end badly. Please, keep your temper on lock. _Please_. If not for me, for _Frisk_. If he sees anything that doesn’t give him reason to keep them here, he wont _hesitate_!” You beg and grab her shoulders. She stands frozen momentarily before biting her teeth together and knotting her brow.

“Understood.” “WHY ARE WE HUDDLED IN A CIRCLE AND WHISPERING?” Papyrus looms over Sans and Undyne hastily clamps a finned arm over his jaw.

“Papyrus. Listen to me. See that old man?” You point towards Baysoph who is peeking at Frisk who desperately wants to run. He turns to the only trustable person nearby: Forge. Papyrus nods enthusiastically because Undynes hand still traps his jaw in place. “Okay, um, he-he is _really_ afraid of skeletons and has _super_ sensitive hearing and is generally a very grouchy old jerk. I don’t want him making Sans feel sad, or you, so can you please stay away from him for me? Sans as well – Sans isn’t allowed near him either…” You raise an eyebrow. Whoever Gaster was clearly meant a great deal to Sans and reinitiating that conversation at any point would wind up in disaster.

“VERY WELL, REA!! I, THE GREEEAAT PAPYRUS, WILL ENSURE EVERYONE REMAINS HAPPY!” He poses dramatically. You can hear Baysoph chuckling behind you and visibly watch Sans tense up.

“Okay, uh, c-can you get some food ready? I’ll bring him something. Not spaghetti, though, please. Pie would work.” Papyrus contemplates your request before grinning, giving a thumbs up, and sneaking towards the picnic basket strewn on the blanket.

“Rea-“ Asgore tries to cut in, but you are speaking to fast to hear his concerned voice. It feels like a humming bird replaced your heart.

“Okay. Um. Uh. Basically, nobody go near him. He can read minds and really is screwed up in the brain area to the point of mental asylum, but, I mean, that’s what happens when you’re _nearly_ 2000 years old, I guess, eehh…..” Your head is steaming over like a road-runner without brakes currently. A heavy paw settles on your shoulder and Toriels peeks her head over your side.

“Dearie, please relax. You are going to give yourself a heart-attack at this rate.” She whispers as she brushes aside some loose strands of hair. You blush slightly and hang your head low.

“S-…Sorry. Its, uh, this has never happened before. Actually, _ever_. I just…don’t want anything bad to happen to Frisk. Or you guys. You’ve…….you’ve been through enough. If you guys can handle being forced into war, imprisoned in a mountain for an exuberant amount of years, deal with the biased politicians and manage anti-monster attack gangs before I even showed up? I think I can handle another life or death situation…” You sigh, letting the stress send anxious quivers over your body.

“You’re shaking like a leaf.” Undyne quotes and you nervously giggle with a rub of the neck.

“It’ll stop. Just…don’t talk to Baysoph and don’t let him control your emotions and thoughts. He can’t _literally_ do that but he can read ‘em and he’ll hit some…….. _sensitive points_.” You look to Sans for understanding. His brow bones are fixed into a glare rather then lazily hanging half closed. It looks almost painful, but you spot Papyrus finishing the slicing of the pie and excuse yourself. You’d left them alone with Frisk for too long.

“Thanks Papyrus. What would I do without you?” You whisper, hinting towards the close proximity of the other mages. You aren’t even sure if Papyrus knows they _are_ mages. He picks up on the whispering and gives a sly wink.

“Not witness this skeleton greatness!” He ‘whispers’ back. You often blank on the fact that Papyrus has an indoor voice he never actually utilizes. You give a thankful laugh and a hasty peck on the cheek bones that sends a flurried orange blush illuminates his entire skull. Rushing over to the others, Papyrus was kind enough to prepare everyone a slice as you balance them on your arms.

“Hrmmm. Excellent mobility and bone structure.”

“I know, right!? His teeth are so white.”

“…Hmm.”

“Guys, seriously, the weird groping and touching thing didn’t appeal to any of you?” You bark as you sidle alone the other 3. Baysoph was busy inspecting Frisks head, eyes, and teeth.

“……Quite the silent child. Usually children….. _he_ haha _your_ age…….scream and cheer.” Baysoph tries to coax a reaction from Frisk that isn’t nervous or blank. You set a piece of pie on the ridge of his chair and hand one towards Frisk who happily accepts.

“He’s a mute, sir. He can’t speak and the only form of communication is through writing and sloppy ASL.” Frisk looks to you dubiously for talking crazy and you hastily wink at him from the corner of your eyes while letting Forge and Mirage take their piece of pie. Mirage practically glows as she instantly forks a piece of it into her mouth and moans with completion.

“ _Oooohh_ whoever made this needs to gimme the recipeee.” She grumbles as she shoves another greedy forkful into her yapper. You sigh and offer a napkin to her messy eating which is accepted with a blush.

“It was Toriel. She might let you have it if this ends well…” You sigh, plopping down into the grass.

“ _Hmmm_ ……a silent mage is always….something to _strive_ for…………but certainly not as a beginner.” Baysoph mumbles with light agitation. He didn’t know of Frisks soul-speaking ability, and he didn’t need to. He could try communications with him, but hopefully Frisk understood to _not_ reply if he even tried. Frisk becomes tired of being too close to Baysoph and hastily crawls over and into your lap; not wasting time either shoving pie into his mouth.

“How old are you, sweetie?” Mirage bends down to delicately wipe their bangs apart and see more of their face. Frisk has the kindness to place the pie plate in his lap and indicate his age with his fingers. “Wowie! 10 years old! Congratulations on hitting the double digits!” Mirage giggles and Frisk blushes to giggle with her.

“Ahhh…..he- _heh_.” Baysophs laugh is silenced by a thick cough. “Age is but a number eventually…” He snickers. Frisk snuggles closer into your lap, seeking comfort. Your heart clenches at shoving Frisk into such a sinister complication like this, but it’s the for the future’s best. You force a hum through your soul to try and warm and reach his own. He jumps momentarily before relaxing against your arm; it must’ve worked.

“But it will be tedious…….aging, of course.” Baysoph grumbles to himself. You hope he cannot detect the glowing happiness bubbling inside you. That’s right; the aging was greatly slowed if not halted! Frisk would need to spend time in the human world to even show hints of aging! You could practically sigh and fall back into the grass with the relief flooding your soul.

“Mirage, what is…… _your_ opinion?”

“Hmm?” She cocks her head up with a fork sticking out from between her lips. She’d been attempting to steal a bite from Forge who was silently chewing on his own pie and raised it into the air to prevent her intrusion on his meal.

“Your opinion: Frisk staying……or coming to THC.” Baysoph clarifies. Mirage hums in contemplation, leaping off her attempts to steal a bite and looking at you and Frisk cuddling in the grass.

“Well…I do love kids……and I can tell you’re just a little bundle of fun and care…Frisk, what do you wish for?” Mirage kneels besides Frisk, an almost maternal look in her eyes. Frisk looks to you, to her, then glows as they point towards the monsters. Silence takes place before she gives a mirthful giggle, taking his head in her arms, and pressing a kiss to his forehead. She stands to face Baysoph, you and Frisk both somewhat mesmerized with her sudden regality.

“I love kids. I would love another friend there. We could teach him so much, care for him, and maybe even be something like siblings…” She looks down at you, meeting your eyes. “But I love you more. _You_ are my friend. I ain’t bout to hand you over to nobody, not even a breeder. But Frisk, know that you have _so_ much potential….just don’t let that little voice be _yours_.” Mirage flicks his head teasingly. You both stiffen, and you don’t miss the scared stare Frisk gives her suddenly. He _was_ aware of the possession…

“Hm. Very well. Forge?” Baysoph attention switches to the towering figure. Mirage backs up at Forge has to bend down pretty far to reach the ground. He presses a giant finger into the center of Frisks body; his soul.

“…..Flower in the sun………radiant and lively…” He whispers poetically.

“And if we took them?”

“……….Wilted.” Forge frowns with a melancholy twinkle to his eyes.

Baysoph settles his hand on his chin, thinking long and hard.

“Very well. You two go talk to the monsters. I’ll figure this out.” Baysoph shoos them away. Watching Mirage rush towards the monsters she quickly latches onto Papyrus and screams something exciting. Mirage is openly welcomed to the table and Forge silently sits on the blanket besides Asgore. Undyne is impatiently ripping blades of grass from the ground, sighing, and repeating the action as Alphys strokes her back in condolence.

Dragging your eyes back to Baysoph you find both his arms folded and supporting his head at the lip. The milky white glare he has fixed onto you and Frisk sends a frightened chill through you as you are vaguely aware of Frisk shivering. Suddenly he leans back in his wheelchair with a rigid grin.

“There are _other_ options.” Baysoph answers as though it was a question in the silence.

“We could return the child to their parents. Their _rightful_ parents.” You imagine Frisks eyes are as wide as saucers. You’d explain later that this was your fault, but now wasn’t the time; he was scheming something.

“Why bother?” You shrug, trying to derail the thoughts. “He is better off with magical beings. They are nicer, from what I understand. _Far_ nicer.”

“Niceness only gets you so far. Violence is a much better solution, wouldn’t you say, _Frisk_?”

“Baysoph.” Your tone is warning. Frisk was sensitive. If that notebook and the memory flash you’d gotten from Frisk was, along with any gathered information, the Underground hadn’t been a trip with unicorns and rainbows.

“I can see into your mind, child, and you remember it. Every time. Every _trial_. _Every de-_ “

“Baysoph please.” The elder glares at your tone.

“…Give me your phone.” Baysoph beckons to your pocket greedily. You wince, click your tongue under your breath and toss it to him. He paws it around in his hand while you attempt to comfort Frisk as best you can; their head is hung low and the shivering kicked up again. There is a light familiar beep from Baysoph as you wrench your eyes into a glare only to catch him pressing the SAVE star. When had you-

“The truth is, girl, this _brat_ goes around considering it fun to dust the entire Underground for a change of pace. I would too, honestly. Y’hear that boy? You’re already too far gone – too far swallowed. How’d you like killing all of your so called _friends_? Your _companions_? That _family_ of yours?” Baysoph begins to bark mocks at Frisk who shoves their hands into their ears.

“Baysoph!” “Not a word, missy.” He glares a single warning into you that pierces your spine. You sit, immobilized with terror. The magic intent radiating off him is death itself.

“How’d it feel to drive a _knife_ into your adoptive _mother_? Crush the _skull_ of your useless witty tall skeleton over there? Rummage through every bush, tree, and crevice on the hunt for dust? It’s almost like _playing hide and seek_!” Baysoph guffaws as Frisk curls in on themselves.

“Can’t take the criticism, boy? The _truth_?? He-HAHeeee, well you have to. You have to go tell that armless worm you want to protect that instead of keeping them safe, one time you got so frustrated with his prattling you shoved him off the bridge yourself!!” His laugh is maniacal and you finally understand his intentions when it is far too late. Frisks venom pool is boiling with unbridled hatred. It was a _test_. _Yours_. _His_. _Theirs._

Frisks breathing accelerates as they desperately claw at their thrumming soul. You fight the cold confining chains unperceivable by any other. Baysoph has a sick sense of humor, but if Frisk ‘popped’ even _he_ would be effected. And Sans…Sans wouldn’t see it coming, and with only 1 HP……he’d be dead. Papyrus would never forgive you. No; nobody would forgive you. Disregarding the vote entirely, you’d want to disappear yourself.

“St…….stop…” You whisper, trying to break the silent spell. You could almost make-out the little chant he did behind his grin.

“ _Frisk. St-Stop worrying! He is_ trying _to get to you! Be strong, please!”_ You beg at his soul as he grunts in painful distress. You freeze and focus any you can directly into your arms. If you couldn’t move the rest of yourself, at least you were capable of dispelling it. Where it would get dispelled or how was something to concern about when it happened – people would question the monsters over the humans if a random bolt of lightning just cracked the sky suddenly where a single cloud didn’t hang.

The chant stopped. You accepted the test.

Frisk had scurried along the ground in agony and nobody besides you three were even aware what would transpire momentarily. Throwing your arm out and into Frisks chest, your arm crackled with pain from the instant sucking current zapping through you. Swinging your opposing arm out and around towards the sky, you ready for the seering-

“ _No_.”

Baysoph streams a burst of gravity onto your arm, lodging it into the soft soil.

There was no time for the backfire.

 

* * *

 

 

“So there we were! The flipping Pyramids, right?! Me, _Rea_ -“ Mirage ensures she says your name to not offend the family, “and Zebbulon! We had a mission to retrieve an ancient artifact that was rightfully Tic-Tacs!” Mirage let her arms flow as she told the story to the captive audience: Papyrus, Alphys and Flowey.

Sans couldn’t shake the uncomfortableness of Flowey being so uncharacteristically silent. Not a peep from the weed. Maybe they learned from Undynes example that speaking up was going to get him killed. He didn’t _hate_ the silence so much as it rattled his bones- _heh-_ like his old days of plotting.

The brute mass known as Tic-Tac was something of a gentle giant alright. Despite the earlier display of distrust and over-protectiveness, he warmed to them all instantly despite his lack of conversation. Mira or whatever took to Papyrus like a puzzle piece. If this was a different situation, he’d accept her whole-heartedly- _he’d tell that to Tori or you later-_ into the family as his new best friend; Frisk would totally be jealous.

That Bay guy though…

“Sans?” Asgore nudges his radius to grab his dulled attention.

“hm?”

“Are you okay?”

Sans sighs, sending a side glance at you and the kid curled up besides the maniac. His grin is sickening. Asgore catches on.

“I distrust him as well.”

“the _prick_ isn’t just off his rocker; his brains rot through.” Sans grimaces.

“He is the wisest and possibly strongest of them all. Likely, he wishes to gain something greater from this all. Why bother allowing a ‘vote’ if there weren’t good things to come for him of Frisk staying?” Asgore whispered, stirring his tea.

“Because he is a _fucking_ _asshole_ who should’ve aged and rotted away so _fucking_ long ago.” Undyne mutters on the ground.

“Undyne.” Asgore warns, motioning to Papyrus.

“What?! It’s so true! How _dare_ he disrespect the royal family! Mage _bastard_ …” She mutters with a pout.

“….Baysoph has reason to his madness…….often, not noticeable…” Forge sets his drink down – Toriel had just give the poor man the thermos since his fingers threatened to break the delicate cups.

“Do you have any ideas as to his reasons for this?” Asgore implores answers from Forge.

“………..He is worried……he doesn’t have long. He must…….pick a successor.” Forge sighs.

“a successor for what?” Sans pries.

“To overwatch……the worlds……their people…their _mages_. He……..he might not act it now……and never with us, either……but he cares deeply for her.” Forge settles the thermos down. “He intended Zebbulon take charge……though everyone noticed…. _corruption_ in his soul…….a seeking for a higher purpose.”

“…..Are you saying he wants _Rea_ to take over?” Toriel asks politely. Forge nods to everyones minor shock. Sans mulled it over. To them, you were just a kid. Sure you were _older_ then you appeared, but you had to watch….the universe? The universe _’s_?!   

“That is a lot of responsibility to settle onto one individual, is it not?” Asgore chuckles unsurely. “I have enough stress and work just trying to maintain my people.”

“It is necessary……there must………be balance. Zebbulon seeks nothing..besides destruction…… _Rea_ seeks to better……her visited worlds. _Your_ world. It’s all she ever wants.” He kneads his hands together and fidgets with his knuckles. “She was a good girl. Sad, at first.”

“Sad?” Toriel asks, settling in for a story.

“Ah…….she came from earth. Not here. Not home. Her own realm………I watched. We’d sensed her magic for some time…..they were terrified- the humans……..figured she was a witch…………They killed her parents……and set her in a fire.” Toriel lightly gasps and covers her snout with her paws. Tears prickle in the sides of her eyes.

“Tori?” Asgore pleads, reaching across.

“I-I’m fine…I simply didn’t… _know_.” Toriel winces. “I was convinced the humans relied on mages.”

“Far from it, ma’am.” Forge sighs. “I was similar. Forgotten. I was thrown from my home…..grew in the mountains……….learned the terrain. Survived til Baysoph invited me…..invited me to a family. People like me.” He looks to the sky with a tender smile. “It was bliss……It had been so long….since I received warmth.” He drags his gaze to Mirage. She is enthusiastically re-enacting the story with Papyrus helping. “Mirage was born there…..she was a tyke when I arrived. Frisks age. She only had Baysoph, Zebb and her father…..but she dreamt much…. _much_ bigger then home. The world. The _worlds_ …………It was shattered….when her father vanished in the void. So, instead, she let humans give her dreams. Dreams to admire.”

“My…” Toriel whispers, entranced.

“Everyone……has a past. Some with regrets…..Some with joy……..Rea lives with regret. Her and Frisk……are more similar then it seems.”

“because they are humans who turned out to be mages?” Sans flicks his napkin absently. He’d heard enough of the story from you when he was in a bubble. He’d felt miserable enough before. Pity; not misery.

“……No. Rea doesn’t want…..Frisk to lose their parents. She wants…..to let them keep you. You are good……both- no, all of you. We can tell. So can Baysoph. That’s why he is testing her.”

“Testing what?” Asgore presses.

“….Her desperation. Her will…….to make amends. Frisks parents, I understand………were cruel...” An uneasy silence covers the table momentarily. “Her parents………refused her existence.”

“She would give it all…..to know he was staying here….with you all. Not growing like she had; under the manipulation……………of Zebbulon.”

“Zebb?” Sans tilts his skull. What did he have to do with her besides being, from what he understood, evil?

“Zebbulon….was the one put in charge of her training………Baysoph thought it wise……….. _It wasn’t_.”

“Why is that?”

“….Her coming close to death…..So many times……….Yet he never changed. They were brutal with her. Denying her freedom she lived for……Her soul was once so pure, and now…” Forge frowns and stares into the thermos. He turns to Sans. He’d heard the gist report when they were walking.

“You know it…” Sans freezes, contemplating. He tries to recall your mess of a soul. Orange with a deep blue glow, cracks along the sides, and a bright green pit center. His sockets widened in shock.

“she puts up a **brave** front that **cracks** under pressure…….has an **integrity** to uphold -“ “And has suppressed **kindness** …” Forge nods in agreement.

“What?” Asgore asks, not in the loop. Sans is too concentrated to bother explaining.

“Precisely…..Zebbulon is the cause of that. Her soul……….Was a shimmering emerald….laced with fiery passion……….But they dulled it……… _changed_ her. The poor girl was nothing but a jewel…. They cut the jewel that didn’t ask to be shaped.” His final words are tenser then his calm demeanor.

A zapping explosion erupts to the sidelines. _Frisk_. Everyone is momentarily blinded by a red flash and winces under a tingling pressure surging through the air. The instant his eyes have vision, he looks to the family. Everyone is confused and/or fallen down, blinking away the sudden daze. His priority spins to Frisk and you before his world goes rigid.

You are thrown back onto the ground, face down, and your hair is returning to that iridescent pearl white. Frisk is trying to suppress sobs with his hands as he leans back into the tree. Their eyes are that eerie vibrant red as they shimmer back into a hazel almond. Baysoph leans forward and kicks your leg.

“Huh. That’s some powerful hatred. Sorry kid – had to figure out how bad it was. Seems she’s de-“ He doesn’t listen to the last part- he fazes forward and grabs your shoulder.

“rea?!” He shouts, shaking your arm violently. He ignores the venomous laugh bubbling from the insane bastard and parts the white locks covering your eyes. The explosion had destroyed your hairband, singed the ends of each lock. Dead open eyes stared at him while her bitten tongue let blood fall steadily out of her mouth. He caught the whiff of charred and burnt flesh. _What had he done_? His magic surges into his eye and the presence of the Blaster vibrating with anger pop’s up beside him without a single command. A tear bubbles into his socket as he glares up at the one responsible.

“If you want to blame me, fool, you’d best look to the youth. _This_ is what happens when magic goes unkept and manipulated.”

Sans’ hollow sockets look to Frisk who is crumpled into desperate shriveling sobs.

“ _What have you done_.” Sans’ gaze is wrenched backwards to Mirage. Her hair has taken an absolutely breathless sky blue tint, lengthened, and flows upwards to the sky as though gravity led it. Her eyes are skipping from deep blue to light cyan as a waterfall of tears tremble down her cheeks.

“Oh dear. Best fix this, I suppose…” Baysoph grumbles, a yellow tint flickering in the corner of his eye. It’s a SAVE. The _bastard_ had a SAVE star-!

 

* * *

* * *

**L O A D**

* * *

* * *

 

 The world shifts around you. A blink. Baysoph, waving your phone around like a cocky teacher. A bitten scowl turns into a snarl as you grab Frisk in your lap and bury them into your chest. He is sobbing erratically the instant he feels your shirt. A searing pain shakes through the arm you’d thrown into the ground – of course, the one that was already sensitive from the previous assistance you provided Frisk. You dared not look at the mess it probably appeared as. A hint of copper was churning in your mouth but you ignored it as your eye began to spiral with intensity and malice.

“Well, isn’t that simply-“ Baysoph halts his sentence, something behind you gaining his attention as a devilish grin extends onto his wrinkled cheeks. “ _My, my…what was it like to remember?_ ”

Your head spun about to be met with Sans’ jacket. His sockets were empty, grin strained, and hands hidden inside his coat pockets.

“what’d ya do, old man?”

“I think the greater question is….. _what didn’t_ you _do?_ He gave you so many opportunities, yet you are useless. Hesitant, dull, and incompetent. _Just like your father_ …” He retorts as he relaxes back. You stroke your hand through Frisks hair as you settle your gaze back onto Baysoph.

“Very well, girl…………..heheehehehee- Mirage! Forge! We’re heading home.” He calls abruptly. Your eyes widen.

“EEEHHHH?!? Nooo not yet! I was just getting to know Papyrus!!” “…..Hmm..”

“HA-HAH-“ Baysoph beats his clogging chest with a fist. “I could care less for the simpleton. Come now…”

“Awwww~ Bye-bye…” Mirage mutters before sprinting over. Forge’s heavy footsteps stumble past you.

“I suppose you will get your way yet again, girly….hehee.” He winks at you and your soul could practically soar out of your body.

“HAHAAA- I expect…. _full_ , _honest_ reports. I _know_ how to get here now.” You sit dumbfounded in the grass as Frisk grips desperately into your shirt and skin, the front utterly soaked with tears.

“Uh, ah, o-okay?” You mind cannot grasp what is going on while your heart has returned to being a hummingbird.

“HEheheeha……..Get that arm fixed……We’ll keep Zebb out of the loop……..heHAH- So long as there is……Progress.” He jabs a knowing hand at Frisk.

“Um, y-yes sir.”

“Mir, you’d best hold onto Forge. I don’t wish to hold your hand like a child.” Baysoph quickly warns before a jagged tear is plunged into the air on the hill.

“WAIT, WHAT ABOUT-“ Mirage shouts in instantaneous unbridled fear as Forge hooks her under one arm and holds the wheelchair with the other.

“Take care, Rea!! HAHAAA!!” There is a push to the chair almost like wind as they fly into the void and out of existence, the tear closing immediately.

“OH! GOODBYE FRIEND!! THEY WERE NICE.” Papyrus shouts beside you Sans as he waves enthusiastically. He perks up at the sniffling of Frisk into your shirt. “AH, FRISK! WHAT IS THE MATT-“ “Pffff-HAHAHAHAAhaHAHAhahahaHA!!” You fling yourself backwards into the grass, clutching Frisk with your worse arm as you cover the wild relieved tears springing from your eyes.

“OH. THE HUMANS ARE BROKEN, YOUR MAJESTY!! SANS, WHAT DID YOU DO?!” Papyrus squeals innocently, leaning down to inspect you both. Frisk was still sobbing into your shirt. There was a sudden falling pressure beside you and a bone brushed your ear and a strained breath caught a few stray hairs, but it didn’t both you.

Frisk gets to stay. _You_ get to live. _He said your **name**_ **.** Nothing could ruin the unbridled happiness soaking through your relieved frame that lays in the sun-kissed grass. _Nothing_.

 

* * *

 

 

Everyone returned home to celebrate. You snuck away into your room as soon as Toriel had checked your arm – it was nasty. You managed the excuse of it being from the first time with dealing Frisks ‘temper’. She bought it- only you, Frisk, Sans (and Flowey who actually spoke up in the car about the ‘crazy coot’) remembered. Not even Mirage and Forge remembered.

Toriel busied herself with baking a celebratory cake. Undyne needed to vent for nearly an hour about Baysoph. Sans kept avoiding you and focused on helping Asgore comfort Frisk. They faked their tears as happy that you both were allowed to stay, but you knew it was more. You felt at your heartbeat to remind yourself…..it took a bit of concentration, but you remembered it.

 _You died_.

It wasn’t a close call – you died. Or, had been dead.

The intimidating power over rewinding time in the little star gave you a shiver, but you flicked it upon reaching your room and hastily stored it into the locked study. Settling into the mattress, your mind continued to reel and piece the events together still.

“hey.” You could’ve jumped and bashed your head into the ceiling with how hard Sans scared you. You grabbed your chest and sighed, trying to ease its beating.

“Seriously dude? You don’t see _me_ popping into your room without warning! What if I was fucking changing? Bit too much skin for ya, but still.” You snicker to hide the scare.

“where’s the star?” You pause your cackling and drag your gaze to his sockets. He has an almost _detached_ glare as awaits your answer.

“Tell me what happened to your father and I’ll tell you.” You shrug as he cringes and clicks his non-existent tongue.

“that’s pretty **low**.” He pulls the thermos from the picnic Forge had to drink out of from his pockets. You groan and rub your face.

“I have so many _fucking_ questions Sans, and then you are asking me just as many. Gimme _something_. I might be generous, but not about giving away all of my life and secrets…..What do you _want_ it for?” You retry.

“where did you get it?”

“Jesus dude, c’mon.” You grumble, rubbing your forehead. “I answer this, and you answer two questions. Honest.” You point an accusatory finger at him. He contemplates it, and shrugs.

“fine. ‘s fair.”

“Baysoph gave it to me. Found it outside a universes Ebott. Guess I know how, though.” You grumble, falling back into your mattress.

“that _fucking_ -“ “Ah-ah-ah! Two question, two answers.” You remind, shaking your finger to deny his rant.

“Why do want it ?” You ask again.

“kid didn’t want another load or reset. they destroyed ‘em all. recognized the pesky thing soon as he poked it.” Sans grumbles quietly. He was right, though; you had promised yourself to not ask Sans the sensitive subject of his dad.   

“Well……were you about to fight Baysoph back there?”

“thinking ‘bout it, yeah.” You snicker and lean upwards. It was a sensitive motion for your arm which still prickled with the back-shot of the lightning. It had redirected off the ground and zapped your heart to crisp.

“You, Mr. 1 HP were about to fight one of the strongest mages _I_ know, and you can’t even beat _me_? Are you suicidal or stupid?” You laugh a tad harder and instantly regret it as you flinch from the sheets rubbing your wrist.

A warmth envelops your frame and blue coats your vision. Sans buries his skull into the side of your head. You can hear the hum of his soul pulsing besides you as a gentle glowing heat reverberates off of him.

“you’re the stupid one……ya fucking _died_ and you’re laughing like today is great.” He whispers against your earlobe as an embarrassed flushed heat melts your cheeks and ears.

“Frisk got to stay. That’s all that matters…” You mutter. _Why is he hugging me? Concern? No, he doesn’t care, right? I’m a threat. The hell he hugging me for then?!_ He leans back, grasping your shoulders, and gazes into your eyes; looking.

“you think you don’t matter now?”

_B-BUM                                 B-BUMP_

“REA?!? You in there!? CAKES DONE!! GET OUT HERE!!” Sans steps back with a simple spin and falls into a void he opens with ease. You remain dazed and flustered as Undyne busts the door down, Papyrus on her figurative tail.

“The hell you sitting around for?! C’mon!!” She shouts, grabbing your better hand and dragging you with her. Papyrus closes your door before giddily hopping down the stairs behind you. When you are wrenched around the corner and led towards the dining area. There is a simple coated cake that Toriel obstructs, plates with an assortment of cookies, drinks, and a veggie and cracker platter are set up. Alphys and Toriel are fretting over final decorations but halt as you finally arrive. Undyne throws her arms into the air and rushes towards her seat and Alphys.

“SANS!! NO SLIPPERS ON THE TABLE!!” Papyrus shouts with annoyance as he stomps towards a leisurely lounging Sans. You were still trapped in your separated reality; your acceptance that things were okay. Frisk rushed you abruptly causing you to momentary lose air.

“ _I’m sorry. I’m so so so so sorry. Please forgive me. I-I-I’m s-soo sorry.”_ Frisks soul is whispering frantically as he kneads himself into your shirt, fighting the tears this time. He hadn’t let go of you the entire time at the park and Toriel had to pry them off when you’d asked for a moment upstairs. You pull Frisk away by their shoulders and kneel down before pulling them back into a hug.

 _“Don’t be afraid. None of that was your fault – he pushed you on purpose. He made me fail that. It was just a test…Shhh”_ You coo back.

 _“That was a test?! That’s horrible…”_ Frisk recoils in shock.

 _“He’s always been like that……But he is better than Zebbulon.”_ You brush away at their faint tear trails.

 _“How?”_ Frisk asks curiously. You giggle and hold their hands together between yours.

“…He let you stay. He let _me_ stay. He let me _live_ ……He let me keep _my name_ …” You whisper with a whimper. Everyone had _earned_ or had been _privileged_ to keep their own names. You were just a weapon in any perspective, friend or not. Letting you hold onto a name which he acknowledged……was like flying without wings.

“Well,” Asgore cuts in from behind you both, setting a paw onto your shoulder, “I suppose it would be necessary considering you have a _task_ and screaming “Girl!” doesn’t suit him honestly.” The lazy stance of Asgore brings a giggle up in Frisk as he vaults to the burly beast and snuggles into his beard.

“You doing alright?” Asgore gives a heavy sigh.

“I’m the one who should be asking honestly, but, yes. Loads better. It certainly removed some weight.” He casually taps a fist to his shoulder to prove its sturdy worth. “Yourself?”

“I thought I got whisked to a bloody cloud suddenly. I almost called it a dream.” You sigh before Papyrus grabs your hand and glows.

“COME, REA, IT IS TIME FOR CELEBRATORY CAKE!” Your retort is cut short as his large gloved hands cover your face, practically suffocating you. He begins to guide you about the dining area towards your seat where you stub your toe against the bottom.

“Pa-Papyr- oof!” He plops you into your seat and his upper body pushes it in while pinning you against the back.

“I don’t see why we gotta-“ “Shhhh, dear.” Toriel hushes Flowey as something clatters around.

“Papyrus, can you please remove your hands?”

“I CANNOT! AH, SANS, ADD MY THING!!” Papyrus scolds as Sans huffs a laugh.

“chill bro. imma **bone** ified professional.” You cover the unsightly snort that nearly escapes you while Papyrus’ head thunks against the top of your chair.

“Guys, c’mon, whats going on? I’ve had enough excitement for one day? Also, Toriel, how’d you even make a damn cake in under an hour?! I mean, fire magic, sure, but that doesn’t answer the entire thing! What, you just got cake mix ingredients ready on the shelves for the homely adventure? Why-“ Papyrus shoves his gloved hand against your mouth to muffle your constant questioning prattle. Atleast you can breathe through your nose.

“REA, LESS QUESTIONS, MORE GROWING EXCITEMENT! SANS, NO, THERE!!” Papyrus grumbles again which gets a little laugh from Alphys.

“aww, don’t **skull** k paps – gotta make room for the rest.” Papyrus goes rigid behind you, trembling with rage.

“Can you reach, babe?”

“Ah, u-um, y-y-yeah! A-Are yo-you rea-dy-dy?” Alphys asks.

“All set.” Undyne. What are these guys plotting now? You just want to nibble on some cake…

“Okay, Papyrus, go ahead.” Toriel coaxes. Papyrus gives a little “Nyeh heh” before removing the gloves from your vision. The cake has been pushed closest towards your seat and everyone is patiently watching as you look down at the cake. You can feel your mouth widen in unsure shock as you look over the final touches on the cake.

It was a cream mocha colored cake that smelled of caramel and had a peach coating over the entirety with a nice drizzle effect of chocolate. Along the bottom of the border were a multitude of yellow candy flowers and colored hearts. They were no bigger than your pinky nail and they trailed along the bottom. On the top was a beautiful bundle of strawberries. Along the side above the petals was the royal insignia repeated over and over. The border at the top had little bones circling around the cake with some sticking up and being illuminated by violet and pink flames. Along the bones was either a color dyed Swedish fish or a dinosaur graham cracker with drawn on glasses. Scanning over every little detail brought you to inspect the center which had words scrawled neatly onto the peach icing.

“ **Welcome To Our Home Rea** ”

“It was, indeed, planned. We just needed to gather the materials and a good time to finally make and present it more _formally_. It was cooking before we left for the park. We apologize for the sudden surprise, but after everything you’ve done for us, for Frisk, and the _risks_ …you certainly deserved th- Wah….Rea? Rea, dearie?” Toriel calls gently from the sidelines of the table. You are trapped staring down the cake with wide eyes and a gaping jaw, tears running down your cheeks steadily.

“Oh. Look. She broke. Great. Can I _go_?” Flowey grumbles and Frisk jumps from their seat and pulls at your pants.

 _“Rea?! D-Don’t cry! Is it written wrong?”_ Frisk frets, trying to reach your shocked face with a napkin.

“What are ya cryin’ for!?” Undyne barks.

“Ho-Honey, m-mayb-be it-it’s the s-stress ca-ca-catch-hing up….” Alphys offers as Papyrus hugs you back into the chair.

“U-UH, R-REA…I-Its okay? Don’t cry, small mage Rea. This is a happy cake! Are these happy tears? You do not appear happy!”

“Oh dear, are you allergic to strawberries?” Toriel gasps, looking guilty. “I knew I should’ve picked blueberries…” She mutters. After a few blinks and fusses you finally snap free of the broken illusion and let a flushed embarrassment overtake your face. You can’t even focus enough to keep your hair brunette as it fades into an opaque white.

“N-NO NO! U-Uh, um, I j-just…I just ne-never had someone m-make _me_ a c-cake for…. _me_.” You whimper, accepting Frisks napkins and dabbing your cheeks. “Sorry, dammit, sorry.”

“Wow, that’s really depressing. What kinda life did you have?” “Flowey.” Toriel hisses as Papyrus gives a comforting rub on your shoulders.

“Um-uh- do-do we split it? I-I’m not supposed t-to eat the _whole_ thing…right? Like, d-don’t get me wrong, I am sure it delicious, but, like, um, I only think I-I could eat a slice? I-I-I don’t know how this works…” You murmur and curl your legs up towards your chest. This was so good and yet completely humiliating.

“Well, it’s a start.” Asgore resounds, taking a knife to cut the cake. There is a little tapping at the door which catches Frisks attention as they scurry off to investigate. Asgore and Toriel work on distributing the slices; they made sure you got one of each little thing while Papyrus attends to your streaming tears. There is a little pitter patter and a bark before a white blur hops into your lap. Papyrus shrieks like a girl and rushes backwards into the wall. It’s a puppy that somewhat resembles a Pomeranian, but bigger. It’s as white as your hair and happily pants in your face. It doesn’t hesitate to set both paws level with your breasts and lap wildly at your cheeks. You sputter and try to control the pooch. Sans is guffawing on the sidelines, banging a fist against the table and clattering the silverware spread around.

“YOU FRIVOLOUS LITTLE MENACE!!” Papyrus shrieks, diving for the dog in your lap. The dog jumps atop his skull and dives face first into your slice of cake and nibbles away at the top adornments. “NO!! BAD DOG!” Papyrus cries, prying the dog off the table. Undyne, atleast, protected the whole cake. Papyrus scowls at the canine who happily yips and munches onto his finger. Papyrus shrieks again and shakes the dog off who laps directly in your lap again. His little nose and mouth are absolutely- PFFFT.

“He’s **caked** in icing. Frisk, can I have a napkin?” You beckon before the dog wildly laps at your face. Sans lets another chuckle erupt from his ribs, though he is coughing with the lack of oxygen he isn’t receiving.

“smalls, my **ribs** ……oh my ribs..” He struggles to make words. You feel proud.

“REA, FORGIVE ME AND DENY THIS CANINE ANY AFFECTION! HE HAS BEEN PESTERING US FOR _YEARS_!!” Papyrus groans with anguish. Frisk finally retrieves you a napkin which you give a thumbs up in appreciation to prevent the little dogs tongue from accidentally getting in your mouth. You didn’t dare ask where it had been besides your eviscerated slice of cake and Papyrus’ glove. He settles down quickly when you start working the icing out of his fur which is a task in and of itself considering it blends in far too well.

“Well, who’s dog is it? Complain to them.” You suggest to Papyrus as Toriel works on getting you another slice.

“noone knows. he just used to wander the underground. now he wanders new new home.” Sans shrugs. His slice has, also, vanished. You know it was there because he saved the strawberry and tossed it your way. The dog yips and hoists itself high enough to snag the strawberry and happily nibble on it in your lap.

“So it’s a monster too?”

“He’s bee-en a-al-i-ive longer th-then-en a-a normal-al dog and i-i-is consi-sidered a-a puppy, s-so probably…” Alphys chimes in as she watches you naturally clean them.

“I don’t see ‘im hang with the dog pack at all.” Undyne adds. Petting his wildly panting frame, a thought dawns on your face. Instinctually, you turn to Toriel and Asgore. You already see doubt brewing in Asgores face.

“Well…..since this _dog_ ate my slice of cake which was meant for _me_ ……does that mean that because it was meant for _me_ that this dog is meant for _me_?” Your eyes twinkle and the dogs little black eyes follow suit as the goats get his full attention.

“YOU HAVE A NEW SLICE.” Papyrus warns besides you, glaring at the hound. Your eyes go wide, look at the slice, looking back towards Papyrus, before you slowly and deliberately drag the slice towards the dog.  “REA. YOU WOULDN’T DARE.”

“Wouldn’t do what, Paps?” You dangerously waggle your eyebrows at the skeleton as the cake comes closer.

“THAT IS UNFAIR.” Papyrus demands one more time.

“I have no idea what you are on about, Papyrus, honest. I just want to take my _cake_.” Asgore groans and runs a hand up his beard. His eyes rest on you with a heavy sigh.

“You need to walk him, buy his food, attend his daily needs-“ “YES!! Yes yes yes yes _THANK YOU!!!_ ” You screech, grabbing the dog and hoisting him into the air. His tail is wagging furiously as everyone laughs to Papyrus’ misfortune.

“Wh-What are y-you go-going to name h-him.”

“Trip-Pip.” You monotone reply with a sneaky grin.

“Tr-“ “trip-pip?”

“Yeah. He is quick and will probably be tripping me a lot and he is tiny like a pipsqueak. Though I will probably just call you Trip.” You sing and press a kiss between his ears. He yips at you and snuggles into your lap as you raise the plate of cake out of his reach.

“NYOO-HOO-HOOOO. WHY REA? WHY MUST YOU BRING THIS LOATHSOME BEAST OF BITING INTO THE HOUSE??” Papyrus fake cries out.

“What’d you say about me?” You warn, causing Undyne and Asgore to laugh. Sans, Alphys, Frisk and Toriel look on with calm and pleased smiles. Of course, Papyrus is ‘drowning in sorrow’ and Flowey is being his usual prick. Overall, everything just feels…….

 ** _Perfect_**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are finally looking up I guess :)  
> Please leave your comments below or send me an ask or question over Tumblr (you can remain anonymous or request to not be publicly mentioned <3 )
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	13. Time To Shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rea got a dog.  
> Now how do you dog?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 4th of July - AKA Update Day - AKA **My sisters 26th fucking birthday!!**  
>  Yeah. 
> 
> Moving on from the a-holes that have been flaring fireworks for the past two weeks, I FINALLY UPDATED!~!  
> Sorry for the long wait and only to result in a short chapter. Working on that fluff y'know?  
> Its probably a bit too early to mention, but the first full August week I will be heading off to camp~  
>  **This should be from the 5th to the 13th.**  
>  Therefore I am going to aim to get a bunch of writing work done to post before I depart!  
> Please send what you'd like to see the most of to my Tumblr - I will be automatically updating the collab with DiabolicalPanda next though - that has been delayed far too long. 
> 
> Anyways, sorry for the long message - it was kinda necessary =3="  
>  **ENJOY THE READ**

Trip was assuredly a cuddly pooch as you settled in for the night. He’d been following you around the house like a lost chick. For being a nearly legitimate walking cotton ball it sure was difficult to find him whenever he strayed away. While you didn’t always watch him, his presence was hard to miss as his little panting breath was directly on your leg. He was, predictably, very fast and small so his constant vanishing act was going to be a problem. Most times than not throughout the day you found him either stalking Papyrus or Sans, trying to get outside, or harassing Frisk. Nibbling on their pant leg or yipping to gain attention. Frisk finds it cute and gives Trip affection not long before you’re scooping him up and away.

For Papyrus’ vehement claims of distaste for dogs, _he_ was the one to show you precisely where spare dog food was. There wasn’t a lot, but it would last you the night and tomorrow morning. Papyrus had handed you a bowl which clearly had a vast amount of names scribbled off with a sharpie. You swear if you squinted as he wandered away to avoid Trip he had blush on his bones. It was adorable; Trip loved the food too.

You stripped out of clothes and decided to snuggle into bed with just a tank and underwear. It was a warm night tonight. Trip had been dashing around your room enthusiastically, but he kept pawing at your hidden office. You hadn’t even considered the fact that you changed in front of, technically, a monster. Though Trip seemed incapable of talking or doing bipedal movement like the other Guard Dogs, so maybe he was more animalistic. Or was that realistic? You shrugged and opened the window before settling in. He kept pawing at the door until you began gently clicking your tongue. You’d set up a pillow on the ground just for him, but he completely bypassed it and got an intense stare to the edge of your bed. As though reading his mind, you meandered into a sitting position to hoist him. He lacked the patience for your assistance and attempted to jump onto the mattress. He had made it half way, but the soft mattress bounced him backwards and sent him tumbling.

You did what you could to suppress the turbulence of laughter that spills out- it’s rather late and you have yet to test the thickness between the walls and floors. He wriggles about on the floor almost like a pig in mud before reaching to his feet again. He eagerly stands on the edge of the mattress with a yearning glint in his eyes. You don’t hesitate to lift him onto the mattress.

“Guess you’re going to be doing this _every_ night, hm?” You mumble and lean back as you scratch beneath his chin. He just pants and settles in at your hip. All curled up he truly resembles a massive cotton ball. You poof your pillow to readjust the comfort and relish in the comfort. It was different from the bed you had back at the HQ. That bed was more along the lines of a brick, though you had never minded or doubted it before. The odd fluffy sensation had been knew, for certain, although you hadn’t made complaints yet. There was something about slipping into the cushion that just made it so much simpler to relax. So much easier to have dreams.

Resting back and staring up at the ceiling, you let the faint breeze of the night life wander in through your window. You breathe the fresh air and continue to accept that this place is, supposedly, your new home. Baysoph had allowed it. He had even uttered the name you had given yourself. It was as though the leash attached to your collar was finally unhooked and you were free. You knew fully well that at any given moment he could come in and smite the freedom you had claimed, but you would enjoy this time while you had it.

Mentally you make note to continue investigating all the seals and to every now and then blip between worlds and realms. Although you now had a new objective to see through with the Dreemurrs regarding monster safety, laws, and permissions, it didn’t give you the right or leniency to abandon your previous sealing duties. The main issue now would happen to be that Trip-Pip was your personal responsibility from this point on. If there were fights or other uncertain issues, how long would you be gone? You didn’t doubt that leaving him here would be just fine – Frisk or Papyrus would surely attend to his needs. But the issue wasn’t him getting fed or not, it was about upholding the task of caring for a pet. You’d been gifted a parrot a long time ago and it had been at HQ awaiting your return. Mirage cared for it in your place. It didn’t matter though. Time transcended differently even though it was slowed down in the HQ’s space of existence. You didn’t return to the bird until it was elderly and had all but forgotten about your life. It was bitter sweet, but you at that point just let Mirage keep them. You’d forgotten their name, gender, even the colors of their feathers. You’re jobs made it nearly impossible to stay in one place at the same time. You didn’t dare bring a pet into the Void – it would likely cause them erratic behavior, fear, possibly even a flight response. They would be lost in the nothingness. Maybe even turn rabid or insane. You didn’t want whatever to be floating around to wait and pounce at a bad time. Now it was even more apparent it was a bad choice. If something along those lines happened and it was Sans in the Void, he could get dusted. Nobody would ever know and nobody would ever locate his remains. Not even you could. It was an gravity lacking zone of pure and unadulterated blaring white – specks of dust couldn’t just simply be gathered, collected, and returned. How would you even explain that to Papyrus?

You derail your thoughts quickly. The mere image was too miserable to ponder about. It was a question you know would go unanswered, and it was better that way. Trip has a faint snore as he settles in at your side; you absently scratch behind his ear. Trip counted as a monster dog, a being with thoughts. Not that normal dogs didn’t have thoughts, but monster dogs were capable of speech, bipedal movement, even strategy. Would that mean he could wander the Void with you without consequence?

You’d think on the matter later. It wasn’t as though you were about to be thrown into the Void without reason.

* * *

 

 

* * *

You aren’t sure how much sleep you managed to get. It certainly didn’t feel like enough. Trip was on your chest and lapping at your neck which was the startling wake-up call you received at the wee hour of 6 in the morning. He was just excited and awaited your rousing. You gave him a woefull look and snuggled back beneath the covers. He only gave you an extra half hour before he was patting your face with his paws. At one instant he even shoved his paw into your snoring open mouth. You practically gagged and choked on the fuzzy appendage. You yawned and accepted the new early morning routine. It seemed a tad early for anyone else to be awake, so you let yourself sneak downstairs with just shorts and the tank top. Trip was right on your ankles and likely eager for food. You grab your bowl and ensure that his bowl is cleaned before placing the remaining dog food into the bowl. He accepts the chow greedily as you work on your personal bowl of cereal.

Topping off the Cheerios with milk you wander over towards the table. Sans is face first into the wood and snoring. It reverberates the table all the way into its legs. You stare blankly at him and help yourself to a quick spoon as you sidle over to him. He still has his uniform on. Either he woke up early, which didn’t seem possible, or he fell asleep here. Hadn’t work been cancelled anyways because of attacks? You dug out your phone and pined through your available contacts. You were fortunate that Muffet had snuck her number in so you could send her a text regarding your schedule.

_Rea        6:52                        Muffet, are things still closed down? Does it change the work schedule? I have things I have to attend to today._

Tapping and sending out the message you hear Trip’s little pattering feet as they quickly approach you. Setting your bowl of cereal down onto the table you hoist up Trip and plant him onto the table before Sans’ skull. He began to then eagerly lap at his skull as you picked your bowl back up and watched with amusement. First he began making grumbling noises, then relinquished the cold coffee to gently swat away Trip. When that didn’t work he managed to raise his skull and peek an eye open. It only made things worse as Trip sought out his socket and began licking the insides. He garbled and threw himself back into the chair- gravity did the rest of the work for you as you continued to lean and spectate against the table.

“wh-wha-when- huhhh-“He moaned in anguish as the sun hit his sockets. He left himself splay out even with the likely uncomfortable arch of the chair digging into his spine. It almost looked as though he was forfeiting on the morning and going back to sleep. You use your toes and worm them between his fibula and tibia. He lurched forward with a gasp and attempted to pull his leg back, but your toes were already grazing the inside of the bone. It felt slightly sexual and he surely had a blue blush staining his cheekbones as you just pondered at the feeling against your foot.

“Did you have to work yesterday?” You ask and help yourself to another spoonful. You atleast relinquish your foot from his bones to let him gather his thoughts and realize his placement. He seemed dazed and weary- very sleep deprived as well.

“wh’t’ime ‘s it?” He yawned and scrubbed at his eyes. His morning slurs seemed even more intensive then his casual ones.

“Almost 7.” You reply as you check your phone.

_Muffet  6:54                        Sure dearie!! Police handled the issue. Seems they are increasing the patrols. If you have things to do we can just have to for closing shift ;)_

While Sans groans and grumbles while fixing the chair and reheating his coffee, you send a message back to Muffet.

_Rea        6:55                        Alright thanks! I’ll make sure to come in as soon as I can._

Pocketing the phone and eating more cereal, you nearly forgot to take Trip off the table. Hoisting him up he hastily lathers your face with kisses as you do your best to ensure your mouth is closed before the onslaught. Setting him onto the floor he races into the kitchen to likely pursue Sans as you use your arm to wipe away the clinging saliva.

“why’r’ya up?” He grumbles as he leans drowsily against the archway of the kitchen. He greedily sips his coffee and you can smell him brewing more. He works on undoing his tie- you contemplate which job it was he had returned from.

“Eh, when you get a paw in the mouth it’s kinda hard to not wake up with repulsed taste buds…” You mutter and down the remaining milk in the bowl. It manages to snag a smile on his exhausted face.

“eh, didn’ think tha’ ‘as **paw** sible.” He grumbled and chugged the remainder of coffee before trotting off to grab more.

“Still cracking puns at seven in the morning?” You comment as you follow him to clean your bowl. He gently poured himself another cup that steamed steadily.

“any minute is ful’ ‘a **pun** tential.” He snapped his fingers your way as he heartily drank. You leaned against the counter which allowed the cold to seep through your shirt. You didn’t mind as you watched him. Trip was pawing at your leg for desperate attention. You leant down to pat his head earnestly but didn’t want to lose Sans. You had a question for him anyways.

“Hey, so, Papyrus doesn’t _actually_ hate dogs, right?”

“nah. dogs jus’ like bones. it’s a love-hate relation, ya know?”

“Right…so, like, I got a question for ya…”

* * *

 

 

* * *

Sans let loose another yawn as you all gathered at the store. Undyne was being calmed continuously by Alphys as she eagerly looked into the pet store. Papyrus tried to keep his attention on the cashier as the bell rang. It was your first time walking Trip, and he instantly wanted to zoom around and smell everything he could reach the instant you walked inside.

_“How do you take care of a dog, exactly?”_

You were certain the blush was still staining your cheeks- he had such an intensive laugh it woke up Papyrus from the next house over. Papyrus and Sans seemed to understand the dog on a better level and while you didn’t doubt Frisk would be able to give you information, you weren’t sure what was accurate. You also couldn’t trust Papyrus seeing as how he fed a pet rock sprinkles and tried to put glitter and confetti into his spaghetti. You know he meant well though.

“O-O-Ok-kay, u-um, we-we just need to g-g-get food, a b-bed, a bowl, so-some toys, and a co-collar and leash.” Alphys had brought a list along with her as Undyne took off for the animals. She had been gushing in the car about wanting a giant dog. Poor Alphys had begun to pale, but now she was starch. Papyrus seemed wary of aisles with other people and their dogs strolling around. You struggled enough with keeping an eye on Trip – he just kept vanishing around corners. Sans stuck with Papyrus as you wandered away. You chased Trip for nearly a minute before snatching him up and setting him into a shopping cart. He took up a better portion of the bottom half, so hopefully Undyne or Papyrus didn’t mind too much about carrying the dog-food.

“heh heh, hey bro.” You can hear a few aisles over Sans talking. It’s been about an hour so the majority of his slur is gone- casual slur it is.

“DO NOT ‘HEY BROTHER’ ME, SANS! IT ALWAYS RESULTS IN PUNS!”

“’ey bro, relax. i’s an important question. guard my soul.”

_‘Guard my soul’? What is that the monster version of ‘Cross my heart’?_

“FINE. WHAT IS IT BROTHER?” Papyrus almost sounds dejected.

“’eh, nothing. just wanted to know if you found this place ‘cause it’s so **pup-** ular.”

Proceeding the corny joke you hear something fall from the shelves and a clattering of bone. The echoing sound mingles with Sans’ deep laughter.

“THAT’S IT. I’M LEAVING.”

“aw paps, don’t be too mad! i’m just trying to throw ya a **bone**!” There is a disruptive squeaking. Its probably a bone dog toy. You wanted to get it so badly, but you are certain the puns for Papyrus would never cease. Sparing Papyrus this time around didn’t seem to be a terrible idea. You caught the skeleton making a break for the other side of the store.

“Hey, Papyrus?” You gently call and coax him into the aisle. He wears a wide scowl and even his cheekbones seem to be puffing out like a child with a tantrum. You place a hand on his shoulder blade when he comes to your cart.

“Don’t let him bother you. I really appreciate you coming to help me out. I don’t know _anything_ about dogs. You’re doing me a big favor by coming and I just wanted to say thanks.” You sweetly reply. It works its wonders as he straightens up almost professionally and grows a smile.

“BUT OF COURSE, REA!! ANYTHING FOR A FRIEND! EVEN IF IT MEANS COMING TO THIS SLOBBERING TRAP OF FUR.” Papyrus swiftly mentions the last bit and works on scouring the shelves as you achingly slowly go down the hall.

“So, why do you hate dogs?”

“NYEH…I SUPPOSE IT ISN’T SO MUCH _HATRED_ AS IT IS AVERSION.” He idly rubs his ulna absently as he looks into the collars and leashes. Trip doesn’t seem affected by the aisle subject at least. “OOH! HOW ABOUT THIS ONE?” Papyrus offers you a bejeweled collar with spikes flaring outwards. It almost blinds you with the sheen and glimmer as it hits the lighting just right to reflect.

“Uh, maybe not _that_ one.” You wince and shield your eyes. Papyrus gives you a questioning look, but he shrugs it off and replaces the collar.

“IM SURPRISED THOUGH! HAVE YOU ALREADY BEEN PAID BY MUFFET?”

“She gave me cash in advance through the mail. While I really want to question how and why, it should hopefully be enough for everything.” You sigh and check the money. In actuality, you probably didn’t have enough and likely would take out a few toys. You’d checked your personal inventory; Baysoph took all the cash you’d found and/or worked to receive. The entire way to the pet store you were calculating the probable prices. You only had a few days of work thus far so you didn’t have much to work with in the first place. You weren’t about to go back to HQ and protest about the lack of funds either given the recent issue.

“THIS ONE?” Papyrus offered another collar. It had orange and blue stripes with a metal diamond for the information. It was colorful and sweet, and the price wasn’t bad either. You grasped it and felt the unique leather. Trip began to yip and wag his tail affectionately as you set it in the bottom of the cart with him.

“Guess that one will do.” You sigh thankfully. Papyrus strikes a proud pose as you just grab a generic black leash. It was the cheapest you could buy. Turning back to Papyrus to signal you moving on, he has his eyes set and staring at you quizzically. “Papyrus, what’s wrong?

“YOU SAY YOU ARE OVER 100 YEARS OLD, CORRECT?”

You blink and ponder regarding the question. It seemed rather on the spot.

“Well, yes. Why?”

“YOU HAVE NOT HAD A PET IN THAT TIME?” You sigh and rub your neck as you round the aisle.

“Well no I kinda did. Sorta. Maybe?”

“HOW ARE YOU UNCERTAIN OF AN ANIMAL COMPANION?”

“Well before they vanished, one of my favorite people at the HQ gave me this pet parrot. But I had responsibilities. I was usually not there, so I couldn’t take care of the parrot. I wish I had though. Mirage took care of it and they eventually forgot I was even their original owner. I wanted to take them with me, but losing them in the Void was worse than leaving them behind.” You reply to Papyrus as you rub Trips chest. He flops onto the metal to let you have clearer access to his stomach.

“I don’t plan to make the same mistake. Trip has a mind of his own and I don’t doubt he is intellectual enough to survive in the Void. I just need to figure out transport.”

Off on the side you see Alphys doing her best to divert Undyne from the adoption area. She keeps looking into the big breeds with an almost salivating look in her eye. Papyrus sticks by your side and avoids the puppy display. You pass the toy aisle where Sans has a squeaky bone in each grip and is squeaking them with a closed eye contentment. You contain a snicker as Papyrus drops his head into his gloves. You find yourself lost in the clothes aisle with Papyrus eye’s the shelves.

“WHAT ABOUT THIS?” Papyrus holds up a carry on carrier for Trip. He whines and hides beneath the usual baby-seat of the cart. You smile and gesture to the leash.

“I think with this traversing the Void will be no trouble.” You admit. You won’t admit to Papyrus you snuck a peek at the price. He wandered down and towards the ferrets as you tried to control your shock.

_50 dollars to carry a dog?! Does that even include tax?_

Freezing you feel your eyes bulge as you look back into the cart. Dread overwhelms you as you let your head fall onto one of the shelves.

“I forgot to count for the taxation…” You whimper and grasp your head. You mentally delete your hours of work and try to implement the tax pricing – you already had to likely cut back on toys and food. Food was necessary and Trip was your direct responsibility; hand-outs were _not_ an option! You at the least had enough pride to hold onto that.

Knowing it would take a while to calculate the pricing you try to find a spot to relax and clear your head. A group of cat cries draws your attention as you find a solitary room. It appears that its where the adoptable cats reside. Most of the cages are open as you cautiously enter. Little kittens begin to skitter and stumble across the floor and in your direction. You ensure that Trip will remain in the cart and bring him inside too to be put on the side. There is a lump of blue being absolutely swarmed in more older cats and a few stray kittens. They seem satisfied as the lump slowly rises with air. The only indicator of who it is are the peeking metacarpals of his hands.

“Do you always do this?”

“gonna need ta be a tad more specific.”

“Let cats pin you down?” You snicker and pick an actual available seat. Kittens try to clumsily jump into your lap. Your nearly melt from the adorable display and concede to sitting on the ground. The quickly scurry into your lap and paw at your shirt. You can feel one digging their miniature claws into your back and scaling you.

“ah, see, they overwhelmed me. it’s **paws** ible that I am trapped here.”

“Welp I’ll let Papyrus know.”

“hey **meow**.” It earns a snicker from you as a kitten makes their way to your shoulder. It cries in your ear and nibbles on your hair. You’ve got one playfully on their back as your rub at their belly. They nip at your fingers as the others begin to form a puddle in your lap.

“Didn’t take you for a cat person though.” You admit as you gently grasp and hoist a sleeping one onto your other shoulder. It isn’t roused.

“they ain’t as keen to bite bones and we got so much in common.” He finally peels back the hood and strokes the cats gently.

“I know you can sleep like a cat, but you are _definitely_ not as clean as a cat. You just _leave_ ketchup packets in your pockets from what I hear and your room has a tornado. Papyrus told me.” You roll the playful kittens over as they grasp and bite your wrist.

“You both have this sort of uncaring aura too.”

You can feel the air go rigid and cold. Even a few of the cats scatter away from Sans. He manages to drag his upper torso off the ground at the least and lets the cats nestle around his sitting form. You bite your lip; was it something you said or did he remember something?

_“You must….haaaheheee…..be Gasters boy.”_

You take a needy gulp as your throat dries. You barely manage to stop yourself before you begin the urge to twiddle your hair. It was a question that had been on the back burner of your mind, and it just kept getting scorched darker. You were desperate for answers.

“Sans. Shoot me down now and don’t ever bother to talk to me again if this question is totally out of line, but………how did your father go missing?” Your last words are rushed and cracked as you instantly regret them. The air hangs still and the majority of the kittens cries cease.

“it’s called ‘The Day Of Confused Tears’.” He murmurs and idly pets the cats. His sockets nearly appear blank as his eyelids droop with exhaustion.

“almost nobody remembers him. only the Royals, Alph, and Paps have vague distorted memories. nothing concrete – not even a face. even I don’t remember much besides being there the day it happened.” You cautiously scoot closer even with the puddle of kittens nestled into your lap.

“But what _happened_?” You pry.

“nobody knows. it’s all speculation honestly. ‘ll’s I remember is somethin’ goin’ down in the lab, and the next moment……just, nothing. me and Paps were young, but I was a lab assistant back then working with Alph. Paps came by to visit. something disturbed the CORE. everyone was screaming and ushering a locational evacuation……….and then it was fine.” You can hear his bones clattering as he knots his hands together. His clenching grip looks painful as he lets his head hang.

“I don’t remember what happened. I don’t even remember his face.” He mutters practically to himself. You are a few feet away from him as you nestle in. It was most certainly a touchy subject and you had a gut wrenching feel twist in your heart. You sighed and grabbed a cat before plopping it onto his head. He didn’t move at all and the cat was quick to take on a lazy demeanor just strewn out on the top of his skull.

“…….Gunnar.” You say. Carefully to not disturb the kittens resting about your shoulders, you reach for your phone. It had the only picture left of him – one that you’d forced Mirage to pluck directly from your memories and dreams. You would never let it go.

“I remember everything that happened to him ; even his face, his voice, his abilities step by step; everything.” You hand him the phone. Gunnar appeared to be in his early 40’s and always had that father-esque feel to him. He had a shaggy beard and thin sideburns that lead up into this complete jagged mop. He almost looked like an anime character with the amount of hair-gel he used to put into it.

“He was previously in charge of doing the sealing work. Traversing the Void, sealing the Underground and the other locations. Me and Mirage were often the healers – one day Gunnar needed assistance from Zebb, but it wasn’t enough. He was terribly injured, so Mirage and I tried flowing through the Void…” You manage to unhook one of the cats that was trying to reach your armpit before you accidentally would squish their tiny head. You can see the expression vaguely changing on Sans’ face.

“Neither of us were very good at movement yet, so it was difficult, especially with two of us. We finally reached the world they were post-poned in, but the beast was instantly aware of us. Trying to keep her safe, I threw us both back into the Void. We were separated and left to drift apart…….I don’t know how long I drifted – I saw nothing around me, and my voice was lost in the blank space.” The one you’d plucked from your armpit you cuddle against your breast where it relaxes to the beating of your soul.

“Then I felt coldness and an ethereal grab. I turned and saw the Tear. It’s black. Darkness and shadow that shouldn’t exist. It just….eats. It eats and nothing ever comes out of it. It practically had this gravitational pull to it, and I was stuck in that. I screamed and cried as a slowly drifted towards it – my magic began to fail me. It was a terrifying thought of existence – the Void may be nothing, but the Tear was the brink _beyond_ nothing.” You shudder at the shadowed memory. You can feel the tears welling in your eyes, but refuse to falter with your voice. It was his story.

“And then he came. He was bleeding profusely and crying out to me. I couldn’t hear anything he’d said – my head was already being consumed. I could feel Gunnars and Baysophs magic tingling which isn’t a common thing to feel in the Void. It took everything they had, but it wasn’t enough. Those subjugated to the Tear were told to be lost forever upon contact…..But Gunnar didn’t give up on me. I felt him grab my leg and then my waist. Then Baysoph grabbed my leg before Gunnar threw himself into the Tear. The force of his entrance gave enough of a gap to pull me free. But…” You let a tear or two slide down your cheeks. It startles the kittens it plops onto, but they are quick to settle down once again.

“I’ll never forget his face. He was smiling all toothy and goofy as he reached out with a thumbs up. He said something that I couldn’t hear. There was blood running out his nose. He wasn’t even a foot away from me and he began to dissipate and disperse into the blackness. It only took seconds for him to vanish from my sight forever…” Placing the cat down, you cautiously plant a hand on his that are still entwined together.

“What I am trying to say is, I guess……Just- appreciate the memories. Even if they are scattered. Even if you don’t remember their face. Because you know his name. You know who he was to you. You remember him. That alone defies so many odds. The bond’s made are the one thing that keeps them with us, so we can never give that up. The minute we forget them, they truly die.” You whisper and pat his hand. He finally looks to you, but he almost seems stunned. You can feel yourself smile at the absurdity of _Sans_ of all people being stunned for words.

“Isn’t that great? To remember someone even after all this time?” You finalize and disturb the kitten puddle. A few desperately claw at you to keep you there while others return to Sans. Some even waddle into their own corners to play or nap. Trip began to wag his tail excitedly as you rejoined him at the cart. The cats had muddled your hair as you swish it back and try to make it neat again. Turning back, Sans has this almost light glow to him, his eyes are miniscule stars and you can actually see his _mouth_. He is straight up jaw dropping right now. His cheeks are almost puffy with a bright blue smudged over his bones.

“Sans? You okay?” You ask over your shoulder as you turn to give him your attention. He straightens up momentarily in an instant of clarity.

“Huh, uh….y-yeah.” He coughs and clears his throat rather abruptly. You tilt your head slightly and consider one final question.

“If Frisk wasn’t at risk…would you have sent me to go get your father? Whether or not you knew the consequences.” You fold your arms beside the door as Sans looks at you. Finally _looks_ at you. His eyes droop back into this normal disappointment stare and his smile doesn’t yet return.

“no. I woulda gone-“

“Don’t give me that ‘I’d go in your place’ bullshit.” You cut him off and stun him again. You can feel your soul beating angrily. Why was he sporting this ‘this is my responsibility even though it isn’t’ attitude?!

“Think of Papyrus, of Frisk, of _everyone_ , and _then_ tell yourself you can still go through with it. Sans, at best, one of you returns. And that is a roughly five percent alone. It’s clear your father was a good man, and that he protected you. You think he’d want you to go into harms way that he’d bothered to keep you out of? Gunnar may not have been my father, and I may not have known him well enough to even call him a good friend, but I _at least_ know he would _never_ want me to wind up in that place. He gave his life to keep me out of there. Consider what your father would have wanted, consider your family, and you can maybe get something out of me.” You puff and snatch the shopping cart. You’d gone from an excellent speech to being huffy.

_Don’t go playing Mister Goody Two Shoes! You aren’t even thinking your shit through! Didn’t even answer my question properly-_

“Hey, hey, what the hell is _that?_ ”

“ _Ugh_ they know about this _store?!_ I might be sick…”

You freeze your internal rage to glance down an aisle, a few women and a man have gathered and are gossiping. Peering past them you spy Undyne almost pleading with Alphys to get a puppy as Alphys beggingly wrestles to move Undyne. Undyne gives in at last to Alphys’ demands only in comply to a smooch on the cheek. Alphys is red and steam emits from her scales as Undyne hoists a dog food bag and wanders back around the store. You’d need to stop her before she reached the checkout – you needed someone to carry it, not buy it.

“Uuuggh, lookit _that_!” One lady whispers harshly. Papyrus comes into view with a wide variety of little boots for Trip. He is giddily looking at the snakes and spiders as he squats close to the ground to see the lower tanks.

“Heh – guess even the dead are coming back.” The man mutters with a cheeky grin.

“ _Geh_ , you think it’s true? What if the human _souls_ or whatever they took they also used their bodies to make some twisted _freaks_?” Another woman disgustedly interjects.

“How horrendous.”

“Hold up – I’ll lie to the clerks that he’s trying to steal. That’ll keep ‘em away from here for good.” The man nods to the grouped women. Your blood begins to boil and you hear Trip yip a few times. Your magic just instinctively surges forward. How unfortunate they were in the jars and cans. Tons of the food filled containers just explode from an internal pressurized force. They splatter all across the group that scream and flail suddenly. Most of the woman are groaning, one even stomps away to blame the manager. You control your eye and leisurely stroll past the remnants while artfully avoiding any splotches. The man stands up after trying to just dust the canned food off and stumbles into you. He turns and his scowl transforms.

“I’m sorry ma’am. Didn’t mean to hit ya there.” He offers you a napkin. You give him a flat handed deny in the silence.

“Hey, uh, listen, I haven’t seen you around here before. New to the area?” Even with canned food exploded all over his shirt and parts of his face, he does this strange suave lean on the shelving unit. You can feel the disgust forming behind your face, but you won’t let it show. You know he is speaking to you but you’re too busy confirming the loud pitched voice and baritone chuckles behind you – Sans finally escaped the cat puddle.

“So maybe after a few rounds of dog walking I could interest you in dinner?” The minute you let yourself become aware again he offers a snazzy wink. You don’t hide the wince from your face.

“No.” You straight out deny him and return to guiding your cart down the aisle. “Oh and you missed a spot on your cheek, Mr. Flirt.” You wave him off as you exit. Your hand is grabbed and your attention dragged backwards as he pulls you over. He stands rather tall and it hurts the still sensitive nerves.

“Can’t you _at least_ look me in the eye? I haven’t even introduced myself yet- I realize this isn’t the best of situations, but appreciate a guy for trying!” He growls back at you.

“Can’t _you_ at least take a hint that I will not now or ever be interested?” You grumble back. His grip on your hand tightens.

“All’s I did was ask you out on a date!” He argues back almost like a temperamental child. Though you weren’t any better by exploding canned food onto them, that was direct unbridled emotional energy.

“And I told you no.” You try to calmly retrieve back your hand, but his grip strengthens. At this point he has you on your tippy toes. Mentally cursing your stunted growth you decide to no longer hide your distaste for the situation.

“Touchy little-“ “REA!! ARE YOU FINISHED WITH YOUR SHOPPING SPREE?” You wince and watch the man upturn his head. _Of course Papyrus saw me,_ you sigh and try to free your hand before causing him concern. Of course this _Neanderthal_ pulls you closer as he grits his teeth.

“Hey, ya freak, back off.” He warns as you’re pulled closer to his gut. You’d step on his toes if you were even properly touching the floor.

“REA, YOU KNOW THIS HUMAN? AH! YOU HAVE SOMETHING ON YOUR FACE!! FEAR NOT, HUMAN FRIEND OF REA – I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE SOME TISSUES IN MY POCKET-“ Papyrus squeaks with joy and just suddenly goes silent. “SANS!! WHY DOES MY BATTLE BODY _NOT_ HAVE POCKETS!?” He calls with alarm.

“I shoulda **sewn** this coming.”

“THAT WASN’T EVEN A PROPER PUN!!!” Looking up the man’s face is going pale as he backs up with you being dragged along. The woman beyond him are murmuring and gasping. That tension is boiling up again.

“Fucking mon-“ You don’t let his sentence finish as you push off as much as you can with your toes and slap him fiercely with your free hand. It stuns him enough to release you and you are quick to push him back. He stumbles and slips in the canned food. You don’t hesitate to walk forward, stand above him, and grasp his shirt. You can feel your eye spinning and increasing its speed as you look down on him. You can feel the women backing away and his face has gone pale.

“Don’t you _dare_ curse in front of Papyrus.” You warn quietly and drop him. He skitters back, but never loses your eye to eye contact.

“I don’t date _liars_ , so head to a washroom and find some soap for your filthy mouth. It’s worse than a smokers.” You can practically identify the spitting venom in your voice as you turn on your heel, pout aggressively, snag Papyrus’ confused arm and shopping cart. You drag him quickly away from the scene as staff begin to flow towards the aisle and clean up.

“REA? WHY DID YOU ATTACK THAT HUMAN? WAS HE NOT YOUR FRIEND?” Papyrus earnestly asks. You turn to him and instantly take the little footwear from his grasp to place on a random shelf. You couldn’t wait any longer – Alphys and Undyne would likely try to buy the pet food so you’d need to wait at the exit to prevent it. It would also be safer to prevent Sans and Papyrus (namely Papyrus) from grabbing anything else to attempt and add to your shopping cart. You knew you were pushing the budget with the little you _did_ have in the cart.

 “Papyrus, that man wasn’t my friend. He was just a stranger who decided to hit on me. I hate those types of guys….” You surely weren’t about to mention he was about to lie to an employee to throw Papyrus out. You sigh and just work on locating the cashier.

You find the checkout counter. Sans and Papyrus are discussing something behind you and you don’t spot Undyne or Alphys anywhere. The cashier seems greatly intimidated by Papytus at least as you catch her shifty eyes. You sigh and open the envelope encasing your first pay. You almost blushed at the thought.

_I’m over 100 and I have never had a paying job…_

Pulling out the cash, a reality dawns on you.

You _definitely_ don’t have enough for it all.

“Um, ma’am, I’m sorry but can I take these two things off?” You point to two of the toys Papyrus had insisted on. She jolts to attention after staring at Papyrus too long and sets them to the side. You can hear Trip whine in the cart and you offer him the best sympathetic look you can – you’re still about several dollars short. And the order didn’t even include the dog food. You decide to forfeit up the leash and collar – you could just carry Trip through the Void yourself to an open space. Push comes to shove and he ran you’d just grab his soul. You didn’t want to, but there was little choice.

“Why ya puttin’ that to the side?” Your spine goes rigid as you freeze from placing the collar in the return area. Undyne stands beside you with a _second_ food bag – one is slung over each shoulder and she is looking at you expectantly.

“Uh, Undyne…I only need one bag.” You try to play off her question and fight the urge to shift your eyes guiltily. You watch her eye snap from your face to the discarded items, and finally the cashier. She spins around to the rest of the group and hands the bags off to Papyrus. Your midsection is grabbed and you’re hastily flipped around on the spot. She keeps her grip on your waist, but your head dangles close to the floor.

“Wa—WHA-WAIT!” You shriek in realization as she begins to walk towards the door.

“Babe – can you handle the bill please?” Undyne calls back as you desperately try to gently kick free from her grasp. It would be terrible to cause more of a scene than you already have, especially in regards to attacking monsters.

“Su-sure thing!”

 “ALPHYS IF YOU COVER THAT PAYMENT I WILL PUT YOU IN AN EIGHT LAYERED BARRIER BUBBLE!!” You call aggressively and you can almost see her flinch.

“Yeah yeah sure ya will.” Undyne grunts as she kicks the door open. You flail and try to grab the closing door, but it’s far too late and out of reach. You groan and shriek with more failed attempts to pry yourself from her grip.

“I am _NOT_ letting you guys pay for this!!” You insist.

“Sheesh, calm down! You can just pay us back later.” Undyne sighs and grabs you by each ankle. She raises you higher. You are very aware of the parking lot getting an entire view of you just dangling about, but you cannot fight back now. It would be a public display of assault.

“I _hate_ being indebted!” You growl and sigh. The blood is rushing to your head. Your face feels heavy and painful from the flow.

“Welp get used to it!!” Undyne cackles and returns to holding your hip. You dangle miserably and groan as the pressure begins to settle in your cheeks and forehead.

“Undyne, please put me down.” You finally plead after a minute.

“Like hell I am! You’ll just rush back in there.”

“Then just turn me upright.” You groan and try to press into your cheeks. It offers no comfort in retrospect.

“…Your bra is showing.” You don’t reply and quickly snag your shirt and press it into your stomach. You’d completely forgotten about that aspect. Every breath left you with sickened air. The urge to vomit was boiling up and you were becoming light headed severely.

“Undddddn-“ You slur the word as you try to stay conscious. Your breathing is labored and you can feel your lungs being pressurized.

“Und-Undyne, wh-what are you doing?” You hear Alphys and try to keep your focus forward.

“Oh, you got the receipt?” Undyne asks, completely ignoring your whines. Alphys nods and shows Undyne the small slip. You try to peer with the suns glare at the pricing. Undyne just shoves it into her mouth. You throw your right leg around her neck and use your remaining upper body strength to hoist yourself halfway upwards. It’s enough to close the distance as you grasp her cheeks.

“YOU GIVE ME THAT RECEIPT RIGHT THE HELL NOW!!!” You screech. The sudden switch in blood flow throws you for a loop and the majority of your strength is drained within seconds. It leaves you falling back into dangling just mere moments later as you listen to Undyne crunch and chew on the paper.

“H-Honey. I don’t th-think that is _edible_.”

“Eh. I’ll worry ‘bout it later.” Papyrus stands before you with both the dog food bags and squats until his sockets are level with your own.

“YOU ARE QUITE RED IN THE FACE! IS THAT A MAGE ABILITY?”

“Help please.” You plead and focus on breathing and keeping your eyes open. If she gave you a brain hemorrhage or burst vessel, damn the public – you’d sock her straight in the only eye she had left. Papyrus sets the food to the side and makes a clinging gesture towards you. Undyne concedes to his child-like request. You’d forgotten to warn him ahead of time of your sickly moment as he takes no time to flip you completely around and set you on the ground. You aren’t standing a solid five seconds before your legs give out like jelly letting you collapse towards the building. Your brain feels heavy and aches terribly. Someone manages to snag your arm and pull you into them but all of your senses are entirely slurred.

“Imma be sick…”  You murmur as their voices meld in the background. Your knees find purchase on the ground and you just lean your head against the wall. You keep your attention glued to the closed back of your eyelids and slowing your breath. Quick little laps from a rough tongue begin to assault your chin and neck – must be Trip.

“c’mon, now ain’t the time for **lapping**.” Just from the sound of Sans’ voice you know he just muttered a pun; instinctively, you groan. Something cool is pressed to your head which finally manages to force your eyes open. Sans is applying a wet toweled to your head. Alphys is beside him too scanning her phone diligently. Very vaguely you can hear Undyne shouting something at Papyrus.

“feelin’ better?”

“If I vomit, I hope it’s on you.” You warn preemptively and feel a heave come up. You aren’t entirely sure who it is rubbing your back, but you assume its Sans consider the hand is small and Alphys is clutching her phone.

“Uh-Um-UH- d-do-do you f-f-f-feel li-like it was-was-w-was a br-brain he-hemm-hemm-or-o-orage?! O-Or a b-burst v-v-ve-vein?!” Her voice is filled with terror and you can notice the paling skin. You try to reach out and soothe her as she hastily uptakes your hand. Her claw presses into your vein – was she looking for your heart beat?

“I’m…fine. Ain’t good at……upside down time. Blood rushed my hea- _uuggh_.” Another heave overwhelms your words as you rest against the wall.

“take ‘t easy. ya need a doc?” Sans asks and you shake your head against the brick. It isn’t the most pleasant feeling, but its better then the heavy weight and sickening spinning.

“N-No, ‘m ffiiinneeee…” You mumble and wave off his concerns, though you know you are slipping closer to the concrete.

“Who paid? How much?” You manage a light glare on the side, but Sans is just smiling like a smug idiot as almost always. Trip begins to yip at you – you notice the collar is nicely snug around his neck. You sigh and reach with your free hand to pat his head.

The rest remains a blur. You know Papyrus lifts and places you into the car based on the gloved feeling running over your skin. Everyone continues to fuss over you all the way home. Undyne even offered an apology. It struck everyone but Papyrus by surprise when she uttered a actual ‘Sorry’.

By the time you all arrive home, you at least can walk – while its janky and stumbling, it’s walking. You spend most of your time setting up the little things and ensuring some toys were left in the main part of the house; Frisk had apparently found a nice little bin to hold the toys. The rest are left upstairs with you. Any nagging attempts directed at Undyne or the others results in dodging the question or refusal. Each try at Papyrus just ends up with Sans butting in or, at worst, him just teleporting him away. Once dinner rolls around, you give up. You only give up because Asgore mentions something about it.

Now you roll around in bed with Trip. He didn’t approve of the little dog bed, so Frisk had proclaimed it for downstairs. It was now 3 in the morning and he was whining and jumping from the mattress repeatedly. You sigh and try to recall everything Papyrus and Sans had told you about dogs. You grab the leash and a baggie – maybe he needed the bathroom? You hoist yourself from the mattress and sigh with exhaustion. You grab your phone incase this is a lengthy trip. It lights up and shows messages within.

_Muffet 8:52        The store should be open again by tomorrow!! Hope to see you in about noon time~_

You manage a smile as you open the bedroom door. Trip is quick to begin his descent of the stairs. You follow close behind, contemplating sending her a text now. You choose against it – if she was a light sleeper, you didn’t want to be responsible for keeping her up. Trip rushes to the front door when you finally make it downstairs and starts yipping quickly. It’s deeper, almost like a bark. You yawn and work on getting the clip of the leash around the one on his collar.

And then he growls. Cautiously, you press your ear to the door. Breathing deeply to still your heart, you focus your attention to your hearing. Tires. You hear tires achingly slowly rolling down the street. Peeking at the curtained window, there are no lights. You can only guess who is strolling down the road at such an ungodly hour. Air. Not the wind though- like a sucking of air. Focusing on the peculiar out-of-place sound you recognize it on the next heartbeat. The Void.

Throwing the door open, you rush out. Trip starts barking and gritting his teeth as he rushes out alongside you. The car bails and leaves a cloud of smoke from the exhaust – it blinds the view of their license plate. You don’t pursue – maintaining a glare until they are completely gone. Trip continues to pull on the leash, guiding you onto the sidewalk. He sniffs on the ground and begins to growl. Leaning down to prevent him from eating something like a cigarette butt, you find something most peculiar.

Blue strands. They almost look like string. You snag a piece between your fingers – its laced magic. It disintegrates quickly in your touch. If there was more, you definitely could learn to harness and manipulate it. It almost seems elastic and stretchable. The last bit that vanishes in your hands gives you an inkling to the magic user. You’d felt it before.

But since when did Sans manage to manifest his magic like this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for stopping by <3
> 
> Please leave your comments below <3  
> I really appreciate criticism as well!!


	14. Time For A Internal Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rea delves too deeply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **flails around dead**
> 
>  
> 
> UUGGGGGHHHHH  
> This was so hard to write T__T  
> I realize it probably ain't paced for shiet, but I refuse to delay it any longer BP

Your hand felt at your palm, recalling the buzzing energy you vaguely knew. That was definitely Sans’ magic, but you’d never seen him produce something so refined and string-like. You recall being startled out of your sleep; it was Trip nibbling on your toes and heels. He whined as you took notice of the coarse tears trailing your cheeks. Trip didn’t let up the lapping as you scrubbed the tears away. It tickles as you draw your feet safely underneath your covers. He didn’t skip a beat to pad atop your concealed form and go right for your face. You caught him fortunately and placed him back onto the floor. Reaching out and up you pop your arms and groan with relief and anguish.

_Muffets store should be open again…_

You sigh and swing yourself around the mattress. Trip gets a few licks in at your ankles as you pad over and into the bathroom. It was considerably less pink, but you knew it needed another few scrubs before you finally reached the ivory walls and colorful tiled floor beneath it. You jump into the tub and take a quick shower. The warm water cascading over each scar and singed bit of skin you still retained soothes the memories.

Wrapping the towel around your hair, you rapidly rub it and throw it out of your face. It makes a slap against your still damp back as you pat your face dry. Staring into the mirror, you let your power drain; eyes becoming a hazel yellow, brunette hair cascading drenched over your shoulders. Taking a deep breath and steadying yourself against the sink, your eyes spot the scarred skin adorning your legs. Dragging your gaze back to the mirror, you ponder. Had you dreamt of the past? It wasn’t unheard of – you didn’t talk much about him anymore. Gunnar.

A presence drew near as your eye freely flared and you spin towards the window. Nothing but the next house and the few afterwards come into view. Cautiously, you sidle against the window before drawing the curtain quick. The gaze you felt burrow in your back was intentional and full of hate; seething and black. You recall the car that was cruising through the neighborhood last night, a shiver of anger rolling through your nerves. How had they even gotten into the community unseen? Last time you checked there were almost twelve security cameras around the entrance alone. Perhaps wherever they connected to they were already looking into the matter.

Trip comes bouncing around your legs as you spin to reach your dresser. Finding your uniform and laying it out to air on your bed, you return to the bathroom to blow dry your hair. You were fortunate to have quick drying hair as you slip the towel back onto its hook and pull up a pair of stockings. Clasping your bra and dragging it about, you can’t help sighing. So many things raced through your mind that you’d completely forgotten all the codes for work. Muffet probably thought you were an ignoramus.

“REA! ARE YOU FEELING BETTER TODAY?”

Both you and Papyrus are frozen as you clutch onto your uniform. His face proceeds to tinge orange until his entire skull is vibrant like the sun. His face tightens, cheeks puffing, and his sockets avert their stare as he cautiously backs out of the room. Your mind doesn’t even know how to process any of what’s happening. After the door is closed, he raps against it.

“MIGHT I COME IN AND APOLOGIZE FOR COMING IN?” You sigh and press your palm to your forehead.

“Ju-Just gimme a sec, okay Papyrus?” You reply and hastily slip into your uniform, your head popping out the tight collar. “Alright, you can come in Papyrus.” You call as you free your hair from the outfit. He opens it quick and precisely, steps in and clears his throat.

“FORGIVE ME FOR NOT KNOCKING TO BEGIN WITH. BREAKFAST IS READY!” Papyrus cheerfully remarks. Then he lets loose a hysterical gasp that is just a breath from a screech. His eyes have bugged out and become bulbous; his leg lifts to a perfect ninety degree angle to show Trip biting on to Papyrus’ exposed bone. His teeth grate together before he violently shakes his leg.

“YOU RUDE MONGREL!!! HOW MANY TIMES MUST YOU MUNCH ON MY PRISTINE BONES?! RELEASE ME FROM YOUR SLOBBERING JAWS!!” Papyrus shouts and flails his legs harder. At this point he is throwing the fluff ball around so much it’s a white and red blur. You giggle behind your hand and walk over. Papyrus has tears welling under his bulging eyes as he gives in to the biting. You take one hand beneath Trips fluffy form while the other pries his mouth away from Papyrus’ bone. Once freed, he just pants in your arms contently. Papyrus has slobber dripping down his leg- he gives a shiver once it reaches his boot.

“I MUST GO WASH MYSELF. THANK YOU FOR YOUR ASSISTANCE.” Papyrus mumbles and slinks downstairs. His one boot makes a squish each step as you wince at the thought. Shutting the door you plop Trip onto the ground. You lagging behind gives time for Papyrus to get away, and for you to get your own boots on. Hair brushed and outfit on, you make your way downstairs.

It was bustling downstairs with dishes being made and washed. Frisk rushed past you with their backpack, Flowey stuffed inside and still sound asleep in his pot. Frisk nodded and rushed out the front door.

“Ah, Frisk! Your lunch!” Toriel calls from behind you. Frisk spins on their heel and rushes back inside as their backpack bobs around. Toriel hands them a lunch pail, pecks Frisks forehead and nudges them off. It’s tender, and you can’t help but feel a yearning twitch of your heart.

“You’re not taking Frisk to school?” You ask while walking into the kitchen.

“Unfortunately, an official matter is taking place at the Mayors estate that we must attend. I hate to trouble you, but would it be possible to pick up Frisk? We won’t be back until later tonight.” She sighs and set a plate to the side for drying.

“What, is everyone going?”

“The only ones who don’t need to attend are Papyrus and Alphys, but it is better to come then to explain everything. That and Undyne was _very_ defensive about them attending.” Asgore chimes in and sets a miniature stack of plates and bowls into the sink. Toriel gives him a stern glare as you notice the already drying utensils and such.

“Toriel, don’t worry. I’ll clean them when I get home. I’m just going to eat anyway so let ‘em soak.” You shrug and grab a bowl.

“Oh, you weren’t called in early today?” Asgore asks and puts milk back into the kitchen. You freeze before taking the cereal box.

“…….What time is it?”

“Um, nearly 8:20.” Toriel replies. I slam the bowl down onto the table and snag a granola bar from one of the nearby boxes. You were supposed to be there at 8:30, so shoving the granola into your mouth you dash out the back door.

“Uh- Rea? What about lunch?” Toriel calls behind you as a rift opens ahead.

“I’w et wuter!!” You’re positive she didn’t understand anything with you shoving the entire granola into your mouth. It takes a mere minute, but you needed to help with opening, so arriving early was best. You pop out the Void at the back entrance, finish chewing, and rush in. The spiders are bustling; they would lower unfinished icing, lay intricate designs across them, and then set them onto a tray. Your job was to put the trays out on display. You snatch two on the way towards the front while still swallowing the remnants of the granola. It takes about three minutes to have the majority of the trays out before Muffet finally arrives on the scene. She reminds you vaguely of Mettaton in the morning- she proudly walks the store with a strut and shows off that she can carry triple the trays you can. You don’t mind because everyone has their strengths.

“Oh dearie, thank you for coming in so early!” Muffet giggles and pats my shoulders while shaking my hand. You’re not sure it’s a sensation you will ever become used to, but you smile regardless.

“No problem Muffet. I needed the hours anyway.” You wave back to her as you set up the ‘OPEN’ sign. She is filling into the nearby fridge a slew of spider ciders and web parfaits. At least her ideas were expanding from simple pastries.

Of course, it’s slow. Maybe a brief rush around breakfast, but nothing until much later – about lunch time. You requested to Muffet let some of the spiders take a break from cleaning and you can manage the front. You are certain one of her eyes glistened with a tear, but didn’t press on the matter. While scrubbing down the tables, Muffet wanders into the main dining area. Before you can even speak, she turns on the tiny television in the corner – a rare sight considering she usually only used it for herself.

“What’s up?” “Ssshhhh dearie. There was a break in yesterday at a Whimsalots home. Asgore was going to speak to the Mayor and counsel.” Muffet waved you off and flipped through the channels ‘til she reached the news.

“Mr. Dreemurr, what are your thoughts on increased security around the New New Home perimeter?!” “Were there any casualties?” “Will you be relying on your ‘Royal Guards’, or are you ready to insist for human help?!” “What are your thoughts on the current security if this incident has occurred so close to home?” “Who will take the fall for this atrocity?!”

The outrageous number of people swarming the Mayors estate as Asgore stands at the top with a podium. Everyone is dressed to impress just like proper politicians, except more…flamboyant? Colorful seems better to portray it. Undyne sports a white dress shirt with a dark green vest and black suit pants. Alphys is in something similar to a lab coat, but a hole has been cut out so her tail isn’t just underneath. She also has an orange skirt to cover what the coat can’t. Sans has a black dress shirt and dark blue plants, with cyan suspenders contrasting it all. Papyrus stands directly beside him with white and peach orange suit and brown dress pants.

At the podium Asgore stands proudly with his hair tied back into a ponytail. You are almost certain he trimmed his beard, but you wouldn’t know since you really only saw him for a second or two. He wears a grey long sleeve dress shirt with a tight purple vest – the muscles and fluff hiding beneath are likely wearing those buttons out. The vest has vague golden lacing on the sides that trails down to black dress pants. Toriel stands behind him in a rather stunning violet dress with thin see through sleeves. It also has intricate golden lacing around the bodice that trails down the back.

 _Seriously, who_ makes _their clothes?_

A tough chested man you’ve never met before stands beside Toriel. His beard is nearly as impressive as Asgores, but it’s more of a ginger brown. His forearms threaten to split a seam in his tight grey suit with blue dress shirt and white tie beneath. He has strange bangs that curl and coil down his ears with his hair clipped into a bun. Honestly, if he didn’t have the whole official getup you’d mistake him for a lumberjack or a butcher.

You didn’t pay attention to Asgore’s retort, but to his facial expressions; clear struggle and plenty of concern. If you hadn’t heard of it, then it was fresh news to them as well. Even knowing this, they volley berating questions that are clearly stressing him out. Muffet is paying intense attention to the TV as you feel your nerves boil.

“Hey, uh, Muffet can I use the bathroom real quick?” You mumble while backing away. You grab two napkins and a pen from the front desk.

“Of course dearie – not many customers so long as this riff-raff proceeds.” Muffet sighs without even turning to face you. You fly out the back and find the workers in mid production.

“Guys – huge favor. Can you get me a box of donut holes? If Muffet finds out I will let her take it out of my own pay, please.” You ask. They only hesitate a second before they spindle together a fresh batch. As they work, you write hastily onto the napkins. Once they lower the filled box to you, you mutter a quick “Thanks” and rush into the bathroom. It’s a bit more energy to make a fresh tear into the Void, but if Muffet came looking you needed to at least come out where you were intended to. It’s spacious enough to make a tear as you throw yourself through and float about. You recall briefly that first rooftop view of the city and start there.

Popping out, you’re fortunate enough to find the commotion just a street across. The crowd is much more intimidating then the news lets on. It’s like a bustling army of chatter boxes. Even from this height and distance their continuous noise is worthy of a headache. The breeze flutters about as you hold up the napkin.

“ _Kair mosil vantasha”_ You whisper to the napkin and let it flutter onto the breeze. Manipulating the wind to bring it down to the podium is practically child’s play.

* * *

 

 

* * *

He gives a sigh and rubs the hair off the side of his neck. The press were really hounding him down about this, and the break in last night certainly escalates the problems. Undyne, Sans, and Papyrus are on side job as body guards in case things resolve similar to the last official gathering. He has to admit it would be better to have Rea to dissuade some of the more _open_ humans. Then again, she likely didn’t fare the best in social situations such as these.

“We’re looking into the matter. The Whimsalots were uninjured, but the property damage will be directly covered by Mayor Theel. He has shown great kindness to my people, but this dilemma is our issue to resolve.” He speaks harshly into the microphone, hoping someone in the crowd would flinch under the guilt – but the sea of faces makes it practically impossible.

“Has anything been discovered?” “What’s the cost of the property damage?” “Are you accepting the Mayors help simply because of his increased relations with monster folk?” “Is it true that the Mayor has been bribed by your gold?!”

He feels Undyne tensing to his side as he sighs. Mayor Theel abruptly cuts into the fray and snatches the mic.

“My people are my people! There is no bribing, and bigotry is uncalled for! Now I humbly request you make your questions one at a time, and to not stray from the subject matter.” Mr. Theel backs away as he gives his friend a thankful stare. Mayor Theel was one of the first to openly congratulate and accept his people onto the surface. He has been heaps of help and reminds himself of his boisterous youth. Strong head on his shoulders and confidently expressing his ideals and true thoughts.

“But, Mayor Theel, the subject matter is on point!” “Waddle back to your news-station gramps you’re just hunting for a raise!” “What did you say?!” “The truth lies in the lies!” “Are the Whimsalots going to press charges against the city?!” “You’re just acting like a racist!!” “When will repairs restore the property damage and what were the costs?”  

And, as always, the press divided. It merely added to the noise – a few groups would verbally and even physically quarrel as the others took advantage of the chaos to continue to ask questions. He sighs and rubs his temple. A light breeze frees more hair and a napkin lands on his provided documents. Something is scratched onto it in pen.

‘Hea-“ _Heads up, Asgore._ ” Before he can even read the words, Rea’s voice catches in his mind. Not a moment later, a strong gust comes tumbling through and into the crowded paparazzi. Some scream and exclaim as the violent breeze even throws some lighting fixtures and microphones – heck, even people lose their footing amidst the crowd. Something flies down at the front of the crowd that he manages to lunge forward and catch while still keeping his footing. It nearly crashed into a reporter who had been knocked to her knees. She looked up at him awkwardly hovering above after catching the falling item.

“Oh, u-uh, t-thank you.” She mumbles shyly as Asgore repositions himself. Looking at the item, it was a package sealed with a ribbon – from Muffets. Another napkin was wrapped around the container, and he could feel something tumbling about inside. Unravelling the piece as people were checked on by securities and they bustled to retrieve any lost items, he skims the paper and hears it again.

“ _Don’t panic that you can hear my voice. It’s an incantation. Only those who read it will hear me. Stop flipping panicking. Everyone’s watching. Be the proud king of the past once more, or I’ll pop you off that throne faster than you can bleat. Now buck up.                      -Rea  
P.S – I’m still doing my bodyguard job.”_

He pulls his sight from the crazed text to the roof tops. Sure enough he can make out the unique dress fluttering above with your hair whipping about. Your gaze is strict and cold, but there is a tender feel to it too despite his inability to see your eyes. Placing the box onto the podium out of the publics sight, his blood boils. Cowardice isn’t what put him on the throne.

“Asgore?” Toriels voice asks kindly as her hand rests upon his shoulder. He turns to give her a smile, and she almost looks stunned. He fixes his posture and tie while turning back towards the mic. Most of the press have gathered back together after the gale passed through

“Never would we bribe the Mayor of this town! He is a proud man who has much wisdom and advice. I know I can learn plenty from him, and he from me – for our hearts yearn for the same thing- peace among our people! I turn to you, the citizens, and am torn. Instinctively I yearn to trust everyone among you whole-heartedly as I have my people for centuries! Those who caused this incident will be put up to the human laws regarding justice, not I. It is unsightly that this had to occur, but it changes nothing – we will rebuild, we will live on, and we won’t give up our hopes that our souls can beat together in the same community! Now, are there any other questions pertaining to the incident?”

* * *

 

 

* * *

The noise has quelled some as you watch Asgore fluidly answer questions and reassure the people. Plenty seem to have lost the will to back talk him – his confident and assuring aura is thrumming off him in waves. You smile proudly as he seems to regain some of that regality and strength in his posture. Vaguely you can discern him looking up towards the buildings. _Seems my message made it_ , you sigh. Unfortunately, you can only lag behind a few more minutes before Muffet raises suspicion as to why you’ve been in the bathroom for 10 or more minutes. You give another hearty breeze into the crowd to spread concern of another tumbling gale. Asgore looks up briefly as you wave and pop back into the Void. You giggle triumphantly as you click back into the bathroom, practically stumbling with your heels.

Noise greeted you upon your return. Wandering out into the main area reveals that the place has picked up an extensive line threatening to spill out the door. Checking the time showed it was supposed to be surprisingly slow at the moment. Muffet spun around and you are certain dollar signs were in her eyes.

“Oh dearie, it’s been packed for the last couple of minutes! Grab the orders while I cash these people out!” Muffet instructs and you only briefly hesitate before just putting yourself in front of the pastries. Muffet cashes people out who then sidle down and give you the slip with their order. This only happened once when the rush hour was surprisingly busy. You lost the time as you put together the requested orders, and everyone seemed excited. Even after the rush it was a steady trickle of customers. Only during a brief pause did one customer make you stop and stare.

“You’re-“ _The lady I tried to bash in the head for making shit remarks at Asgore- “-_ that lady who almost got hit in the head…” You withhold the comment racing through your brain.

“Haha, uh, y-yes! My camera man and a few of the, uh, other stations caught the moment where Mr. Dreemurr caught that box. The logo is very prominent, so I thought it would be something worth trying!”

Your hands bang against the pastries glass as your knees tremble. The woman looks concerned, but doesn’t break a smile. Muffet is practically _crying_ with the amount of money that is almost popping out of the register.

_So this is all my fault?!_

* * *

 

 

* * *

“Oh, Rea dear! You’re replacement is here! You can head home!” Muffet calls as the other dainty girl walks in and past you, already adorning a petite smile.

“Thanks!!” You call and speed out the back grabbing what little you’d brought along. She can handle the rest of that insanity. It didn’t really slow down for 3 hours. How many people live in this town is beyond you, but you weren’t about to walk around town flaunting more of Muffets store logo. You would feel it tomorrow. You jump into a seam and float about to the vague area of Frisks school. The bell must’ve already rung as you peek around a corner of a gate to see students piling into buses. Frisk is patiently standing on the sidelines, likely chatting with Flowey.

 _“Frisk, head over here.”_ You call to him. Frisk perks up immediately and peers around before spotting your tiny wave and rushing over.

 _“Re-_ “ You don’t let either of them get a word in as you snuggle Frisk with a firm grip right against your chest and fall into the Void once more. Flowey just had to scream and flail around in a useless panic as you fell through and, eventually, landed with a slide right in the backyard. Releasing Frisk you groan impatiently and pry off the heels.

“Sorry bud. I just _couldn’t_ walk today. I need to play a game or something. Drink some tea. Hoo boy…” You sigh and pass a confused but excited Frisk. Dragging your feet upstairs and locking the door you instantly strip into the longest t-shirt you can find. It was Gunnar’s. You’re certain you haven’t washed it enough to get his cigarette smell off it either. Mirage had made a dream of his into a shirt. It was Gunnar directly in the center, though his eyes had been shaded after he was swallowed. His usually mop-like hair was flowing and laced with reds, oranges, and yellows – like a sun. His shirt was burst open revealing within an extensive neon blue tattoo he actually bore. His pants were rainbow stripes with black boots up to his knees. For some silly reason he had 4 arms, each holding a different item – a cigar, a desert eagle, a sniper, and a crystal. His hardy smile clenched a grenade. Instead of explosions he was completely surrounded with bullet holes in the background and ice crystals bursting like colorful fireworks. Snow drifted in through the holes to mix with the breeze. It was bizarre and insane, but it always cheered you up to have a piece of him close by.

Wandering back downstairs in nothing but the long shirt and underwear you find Frisk diligently doing their homework. You sigh and lean against the archway to watch for a moment. It’s clear he is bickering with Flowey about the correct answer, Flowey is making a pouty face while Frisk victoriously scratches in an answer.

Sneaking into the kitchen you make yourself a sandwich for lunch and some herbal tea you’d stashed away. As the water boils, you clean the dishes you’d promised to Toriel and set them to the side to dry. A thought rushes into your mind as you spin around.

“…Trip?” You call into the house. Moments later the little pitter patter of paws comes from behind a curtain as he rushes out and at your leg. You snicker and grab him to hold against your chest. He laps at your neck probably because of stray crumbs.

“Better not pull this weird need for hide and seek anymore. What, ya planning to ambush Papyrus? He ain’t coming through the backyard. Honestly……” You sigh but still fluff up his fur. He yips in your ears before nuzzling beneath your ear. It makes it easier to pour the cup and cart them out like a waiter into the living room. Unable to see Frisk you pick a spot at the end of the sofa and let Trip go. He just starts running in wild circles which you don’t dare to interrupt and instead sip at the tea.

“Where the hell are your pants?” Floweys voice cuts through the pleasant silence as you’re readying to eat your sandwich. You sigh and pull it back regretfully.

“Well where are yours?” You reply- hearing yourself, it sounds cheeky.

“I’m a flower.” He argues.

“And yet you were once a little goat boy. These are the trues mysteries of the world.” You grumble and take a hearty bite of the sandwich. It’s not as good as Toriels cooking, but it will certainly suffice.

“You’re an idiot.” He chuckles.

“And you are a flower. I believe we have already touched on this subject matter.” You wave off his insistent want to annoy and check your phone. Seems Mirage has sent you a heap of info.

**Mir – Zebbs still clueless. Tic-Tac seems to be making you a special package, but idk what it is =3=  
Baysoph started the hunt for a new mage. Needs someone to cover the other worlds if you’re stuck there. **

A pang of guilt riles in your heart as you type a message back immediately.

**Rea – Don’t let him. I’ll continue my duties without fail.**

Knowing that he would drag some other poor sod away from his family simply because you failed in what you initially set out to do. While gathering more mages and the sort would be heartwarming if they are in predicaments, if it’s anything like Frisks situation, you would never seek to tear apart the family. In that case, it’s completely dependent.

Your deep thought it broken as Frisk taps his pen. Looking towards him, it is clear that Frisk and Flowey are struggling over the same question. You peek over and read over the question quickly. You certainly didn’t have a high school education, but Frisk was in 6th grade or something. As you’d hoped, it wasn’t too difficult.

“It’s C.” You mutter and take a sip of the drink. Frisk looks to you in amazement.

 _“Is it? But I have to show work.”_ Frisk mentions. Flowey gives you a side eyed glare as you reach for the pen and paper.

“Alright. See this? If you add these together…….and take what’s in here out……it finishes this. After that it’s the basic formula it had you do for the first few answers.” You lean back and watch Frisk fill in the rest of the answer before smiling proudly back to you.

_“Thank you!”_

“No problem.”

For the next half hour you watch Frisk and Flowey continue to argue over the true answer while you eat your lunch. It somewhat reminds you of yourself and Mirage when Baysoph was giving simple classes. For being all wise and whatnot, he was a _really_ bad school teacher.

Frisk finally finishes their homework and you don’t delay to just turn on their gaming console and pop in some cartoony racing game. Mario Kart – whatever that is. While the first few minutes are light fun, it gets very intense between you and Flowey. Even with mere vines he overtakes you a series of times.

“HAHAHA!!” “WHO INVENTED THIS BLUE SHELL?! TURTLES DO _NOT_ FLY, NOR ARE THEY BLUE!!!”

This proceeds for another hour or so, just you and the kids switching between games. Without warning or sound, the front door bursts open. Instinctively you reach out, into your phone, and instantaneously retrieve your scythe in order to protect.

“What good is having us guardsmen if we are just letting them _walk all over us_?!” Undyne storms into the house and throws her bow tie towards the stairs. You freeze and let the storming fish proceed past you without even a glance in your direction. Even Frisk and Flowey are stopped by the precession. Papyrus is next to walk in, though he looks exhausted. You'd never really seen Papyrus tired in the middle of the day, but it’s somewhat disheartening. Sans comes in rubbing Alphys’ back as she wipes tears you suppose from behind her glasses. Toriel and Asgore are the last to enter and Asgore instantly slouches against the stairs railing with a heavy sigh.

“THINGS WILL BE RESOLVED SOON, YOUR MAJESTY! UNDYNE SPEAKS THE TRUTH, BUT WE TRUST YOUR JUDGEMENT!” Papyrus tries to perk up for the family, but Toriel seems to be the only one consoled by his energy. She turns about to take off her heels and catches you standing guard with your scythe.

“Rea? What are you doing?” She asks with slight aggression. You blink away your stunned surprise and let the scythe materialize back into the phones inventory space.

“Look, it was instinct.” You defend and scratch your head. She looks you over with too much fatigue to be bothered by your ineptitude, but her eyes bulge and cheeks flush. She immediately walks over with a heavy blush and looms over you as she leans into your ear.

“You have shorts on underneath that, yes?” It’s a maternal tone that makes you gulp in fear. You’re instantly hateful for whatever fear you’ve conjured – it’s Toriel; you can take her with one hand.

“Nope. Freedom to my thi- AaaAAAH!!” She snags your ear with her two fingers and drags you towards the stairs. Nobody questions the behavior and makes a path as she persistently shoves you up the first few steps.

“Well get some on! If you are living here the least you can provide is some _modesty!_ ” She orders. You are certain shock is clear on your face as you turn about and glare right into her eyes.

“You’re _not_ my mother, so don’t take that tone with me! You could have just asked!! I realize you guys have had a rough day, but mine has been pretty terrible too! I completely forgot that Muffet puts her logo on _literally_ everything, so immediately after I chucked that box, like, a dozen cameramen caught it and the store was _flooded_!” You growl back impatiently.

“ _You_ nearly hit that woman.” Asgore steps in with an equally stern look to parallel Toriels.

“Oh! So now it’s _my_ fault! Don’t you _dare_ tell me you didn’t hear her snarky comments! Thanks to you saving her, I’m sure the media will be all over it – even though she is a racist _bitch_ , kind and loving Ki-“

The clap of fur and flesh brings utter silence to the accumulated group as everyone’s face stays stunned as Toriel retreats her hand from your face. With the force behind the slap you are certain you felt your neck crack. You turn back slowly to her, mouth and eyes open as her own face begins to parallel yours. You feel your magic surge out as your hair flies and coils like a violent snow storm. Your eye burns as you peer deep into her eyes, into her being, her SOUL.

Small. Fragile. Regal. Petite. Assured. Maternal. Love. Fear. Affection. Kind. Hesitant.

_Deeper._

_Memories. A family. Friends. Hardships and rewards. Sacrifices._

**_Deeper still._ **

**_So frail. So miniscule. Like a child; no, an infant. It’s warm and wriggling._ **

**_Then it stills._ **

You snap a hand over your eye immediately. Time was frozen. You’d _frozen_ time.

“Oh fucking GREAT!” You screech and punch the wall. Internal turmoil always led to muddy results. Frisk at least didn’t have this issue of raw magic constantly leaking out of their face. Covering it or keeping it closed often worked until you were calm enough to control it again. You gather yourself and conceal it behind your hand. Focusing all your energy into the world around you, you will it to advance. It’s a bit complicated, but luckily things begin to breathe and move again. Looking up, Toriel seems to be trying to reach and inspect your cheek. You just flash a cheeky smile.

“Ya call that slap? Gosh you are _terrible_ at discipline. Fine, fine. Shorts is all you’re getting from me though.” You blurt out the words and rush up the stairs to not allow a word to get in. Just going along with it all at the moment seemed the best idea. You rush upstairs and throw yourself onto the bed. Magic burns your eye and hand as it presses for release and you instantly put your thoughts into meditating. It may only be for a few minutes, but it does little to quell the rush coursing through you. There wasn’t any built up malice, just spur of the moment aggression – the amount of energy it would take the amount of hate filled magic surging through your body isn’t worth it. If the night is resolved quickly there should be no issues. With that in mind, you just shimmy some shorts on and keep your eye closed.

Frisk and Flowey are back to playing that Mario Kart or whatever and pause when you come back downstairs.

“The hell are you doing with your face?” Flowey glares at you as you wave off his question.

“What? I can’t just wink for a couple of hours?” You flop onto the sofa and Frisk pauses the game before crawling over.

“ _Are you okay? Everyone looked really upset…..Your cheek is red.”_ Frisk touches the skin. It really didn’t hurt, it merely surprised you.

“ _I made Toriel a little mad. It’s fine though. Everyone just had a really stressful day.”_ You consult personally back to Frisk and ruffle their hair. Their sunken expression clearly states that they understand you’re hiding the truth, but they certainly don’t try to pry it from you and slip back into the game. Flowey offers you a controller, surprisingly.

“Up for another round of getting creamed?”

“No. I’m good.” You push away the controller. More instigation certainly wasn’t what you needed at the moment.

“Aaaww whats the matter? Finally admitting defeat? The _great and powerful mage?!_ I knew you were just a wuss!” Flowey laughs at you. Frisk briskly pauses the game and smacks one of his leaves. They bicker briefly, Frisk gives you a reassuring thumbs up, and before long they return to their game. You watch until Asgore comes downstairs and loosening his collar. He looks between you three and comes in with a forced yet gentle smile.

“Frisk. Flowey. Were you both able to finish your homework?” Asgore implies as Frisk pauses the game quickly. He signs rapidly to Asgore, you only catch a few words as Asgores cheeks turn up with his smile.

“Well it’s great that she could help. Toriel is going to teach Papyrus how to make some shepherd’s pie – would you mind mediating to make sure he doesn’t get into anything?” Asgore ruffles Frisk hair and he nods enthusiastically. Flowey gets dragged along groaning, leaving simply you and Asgore in the living room. He turns off the game console and switches over to the news while lighting the fire place.

“I apologize for what happened earlier. Everyone is very stressed at the moment.” Asgore sighs and falls into his giant chair. You sigh and lower the volume on the news to concentrate.

“What happened? I briefly heard what happened over the news and from you guys.” He clamps his hands together tightly and just shakes his head.

“The Whimsalots about several houses down have holes dug in their entire yard, their mailbox is missing, and foul graffiti covers the entire houses front. It happened in the middle of the night. We’d be able to pinpoint the time better if the cameras _apparently_ didn’t catch any feed the other night. There is wild concerns that a spy is on the inside.” He lets his head fall against his joined paws with grievance.

“Oh, those jerks in the lowrider? They came at about 3 in the morning I think…” You hum and sip at your cold tea.

“You saw them!?” Asgore shouts in surprise. You nearly spit your tea. Recollecting this morning, you hadn’t really had the time to share that news with them until now. You nod apologetically.

“Yeah. Trip had to go to the bathroom. He growled at the door and when I heard them rolling down the street I rushed out. Didn’t catch their license plate, but I vaguely know it’s a dark blue low rider. I don’t know much more about cars. Sans might’ve seen more of them before they caused all that smoke.”

“Sans? He should have been at work until 5 that morning…” Asgores hand strokes his beard as you are left to ponder. That magic was thin like wire – it would have to of been fresh. Either Sans was there or you made a mistake; once you felt someone’s magic, you never misplaced it’s origin.

“No. I’m positive Sans was there.” You argue and slouch forward.

“Hmm….I’ll ask him over dinner.” Asgore sighs and puts his feet up to warm near the fire.

“So, what’s got Undyne hunting for blood?” You murmur and blink your eyes. Even the brief exposure creates a momentary fluctuation. Luckily, Asgore doesn’t feel the distortion.

“She is being difficult. We must rely on the humans police force to look into the incident, even though it is, legally, our own issue. Mayor Theel expressed his desire to help my people from the very beginning and he has been completely honest and patient with us. Now he offers a squadron to investigate and Undyne is aghast that she herself or any of the other Royal Guards are working on the case matter. She feels betrayed most likely. Right now, however, I must protect my people – this includes those who are meant to protect others. It’s for the best.” Asgore sighs again. The fatigue finally settles on his face while he leans back comfortably. A silence settles between you both past the fire sparking and the quiet news.

“Your shirt….”Asgore mumbles. “….That is Pulfox, is it not?”

“His descendant, yes. The tattoo strike a chord with you?” You snicker and lean back against the arm.

“Memories, yes. While he was one of those who helped erect the barrier, he was a very skilled fighter. Though he seemed quite aloof.”

“You’ve got that right. Pretty sure he is on par with Sans’ lazy level.” You giggle and Asgore’s smile grows. The fire simply crackled in the silence as you noticed the chill in the air. Stiffly, you rise from the couch and seat yourself at the base of the fire place with a pillow.

“I’ve had a long day. Can you wake me up for dinner?” You murmur while fluffing the pillow and getting comfy despite the brick and wood. You bury your head and let the flames flaring sounds ease you into rest. In any other place, it would be harder to rest near an active flame. Yet, peaking at Asgores rising chest and resting smile eases your mild fears.

* * *

 

 

* * *

He stirs the coffee absently and recalls the exhausting day in the solemn air. Tori has been rewashing the dishes Rea already worked on to likely clear her thoughts. He scratched his skull as Trip snuggled against his slippers. He certainly hadn’t expected to come home to Rea getting wrecked at Mario Kart.

Nor for her to be wearing nothing _but_ a shirt.

It threw him enough to not interject during the argument. His momentary attempt to try and ease her aggression led to a shot of black he hadn’t expected to witness twice in his life, let alone the same week.

But he felt it.

The slowing of time.

He would lie to himself that it didn’t remind him of Frisk’s first get together with him at Grillbys. It was safer to presume it as such. But one moment, everyone is horrified by Tori slapping Rea across the face. The next, her yellow spinning eyes becomes something similar to a beam. Like a predator, it honed in. On what, he isn’t entirely sure – but it certainly had to of been Toriel. The next moment, you conceal your face, play off the fights pause and rush away.

Paps and the kid were pretty bit in the butt from the gloomy atmosphere. Toriel hadn’t really said more than a few words when speaking. Asgore was clearly too tired to be bothered by the issue. Alphys had left to try and ease Undynes anger. Everyone was far too stressed to have another problem in the house. Though he sided with Asgores decision, it wasn’t as though he enjoyed depending on the humans. He certainly wasn’t self-centered to pool all humans together. He’d seen his fair share of the uncouth side, but every few moments he witnessed something that warmed his soul.

A sigh from the kitchen raised his attention as Toriel finally shut the tap off. She looked weary as she dried her hands and gazed out into the backyard. Papyrus and Frisk were eagerly watching the shepherds pie bake in the oven. From the smell of things, it was nearly done.

“Oh Sans…” Toriel whispers while seating herself beside him. He puts the book he’d had open to the side; it lost his attention a while ago.

“things’ll calm down tori.” He replies with a smile. “I don’ know ‘bout you, but I don’ **pie** -ticularly think it’s as bad as it can get at the moment.” He offers with a shrug, Toriel’s eyes growing mirthful for even a split second.

“I appreciate your help. I just……….It’s been so awful. All of this hatred and pain. The building stress? Now Rea is here, _living_ with us, teaching my child how to be a _mage_. The ever looming threat of this _Zebbulon_ discovering Frisks existence? I feel like I have lost some years in the past few days alone with the fretting.” Toriel presses her paw against her forehead as Sans holds her other hand. Her fur bristles against his bone and seeps into any cranny it can. A tickling sensation, true, but warm and real.

“Tori, you still worryin’ ‘bout that after that whole debacle we just had?” He snickers, though the humor it pushed. She shakes her head and peers back towards the kitchen.

“I was merely reminded today. Rea…..At times, I genuinely view her as nothing more than human. A tender girl who missed a childhood and was raised amongst no love. I want to show her the goodness of family and let her bathe in affections. Goodness, I’ve even preposterously believed we could _protect_ her.” Her hand quivers and grips his own hands with a tightening fist. Her eyes tremble as she stares into nothing.

“But earlier……with her weapon drawn? I woke to the fact that, no, it is unlikely. She is always so on guard, yet vulnerable to a fault. I let my instincts get the better of myself for her lake of behavior and…….stars, Sans. Her eyes were ice daggers. It felt as though she would reach out and crush me in an instant…………It was terrifying. I’ve felt fear, but never a distinctive threat upon my very life, or the ones I loved. I’m unsure it was even intentional; she mentioned her aggression issues briefly. It was wrong of me to uptake such an attitude with her upon returning…….but I can’t get the thought out of my head that she could kill us.” Toriel is on the verge of weeping as her head hangs solemnly. Carefully, he lets his magic loosen as a tissue box levitates over to the table. She releases her forehead and uptakes a few to dab at her eyes. With a sniffle, she forces a smile, and says “Thank you my friend. It is but a fleeting thought….I will be alright.”

She rises from the seat and proceeds back into the kitchen. She peeks at the pie and instructs Papyrus to take it out.

“Sans, would you please inform Asgore that dinner is ready? I’ll go fetch Alphys and Undyne. Papyrus, be very careful retrieving that from the oven please.” She asks sweetly and wanders over to Undynes side.

“YES YOUR MAJESTY!!” Papyrus salutes her walking figure and begins to strategize how to best retrieve the pie from the oven. Sans pushes himself from the seat and Trip circles him enthusiastically while leading towards the living room. In regards to his annoying nature, he has been fairly tame so long as he isn’t directly aiming for Papyrus. He yips happily and rushes into the living room. He can feel the fires hearth radiating heat, and the TV is barely audible.

As he thought, Asgore is conked out in his chair. Toriel had mentioned beforehand he hadn’t been sleeping well, so after this exhausting experience he certainly needed the relaxation. He’d placed a blanket over himself, but it was slowly falling off towards the fireplace. Wanting to keep the house cinder-free, he reaches over to retrieve it. A flash of silver white catches his attention as he wanders around the massive king. To his surprise, Rea is curled into a little ball against the wood and bricks clutching the blanket. He’d laugh at the fact that she was trying to take his capability of sleeping anywhere, but he is too tempted to draw on her face. She readjusts herself, only painting a new image of her in his mind. It isn’t just her bunched up body or the innocent act of hogging a blanket – Rea just appears so young and fragile. _Course it’s only when she’s sleepin’,_ he reminds himself.

Her knees are tucked tightly to her chest as half of her face snuggles into the pillow she likely dragged along. He’d seen her sleep a few times – mostly after that sealing incident. Her face was constantly contorted and sweating, breathing harsh and sometimes nonexistent. Now her chest rose softly and her teeth parted with each breath. Her cheeks and ears were red, likely from the flames. It gave her this rosy effect that merely added to the child-like appearance.

 _“At times, I genuinely view her as nothing more than human. A tender girl who missed a childhood and was raised amongst no love.”_ Tori’s words mixed in with other brief memories.

 _“_ _They had tied me to a pillar in the middle of a pile of firewood, match at the ready. I didn’t even have a moment to process what was happening before they lit the wood.”_ His eyes flit over her skin, and he catches it. She hid it well with socks and pants, but across her feet and lower legs were clear burn scars. The skin flared red scorch marks like a synchronized flame. Like embers could spark at her very heels and she would run through the forest to craft a wall of fire. She likely could if he thought about it.

She turned about towards the fire before he decided it best to wake them both. Grasping her shoulder, he gave a light shake.

“hey, smalls, ya keep sittin’ so close t’ the fire yer skin wont **match**.” He snickers and feel her grumble.

“Hmmm?” Asgore rouses and stretches upwards. “Wha’ time is it?” He smacks his mouth as he continues to shake Rea awake.

“I do believe the queen said _dinner_ , but that’s speculation I guess.” He shrugs and shakes Rea more. She groans and coils in on herself. Her face contorts into fear and pain. _Nightmare prob’ly_ , he tells himself. He pokes her cheek quickly, but perhaps letting her rest would be wiser.“’ey, your maje-“ He cuts himself off to turn about and find Asgore. He is completely still with arms stretching upwards and an eye peeked open. Frozen in time – he hadn’t noticed because the fire still crackled on. This was not his doing- ceasing the flow of time wasn’t an easy feat, and it often threw the timeline for a loop. A sound like static wind mixes with the popping fire as he follows the source quickly. Rea’s eyes are knotting together as she murmurs something foreign under her breath. Similar to his own, a bright mist of yellow and red seeps from his closed eyelid.

“Rea? ‘ey!” He barks immediately and shakes her shoulders harder. It likely wasn’t comfortable against the wood. Her eyes pop open not a moment later, and a bright red light pierces his vision. The air grows intense, his body is thrown back as Rea flies back and skitters backwards across the floor. The wind is knocked from his nonexistent lungs. Peeking down, she is cradled herself with her legs tucked in directly in his lap. She is shivering intensely, similar to that one night she was unbearably hot. It reminded him of his indefinite repeating nightmares. Trip comes surging from the kitchen suddenly, surprising him due to the lack of time moving forward. _This dog just defies all types of logic_ , he snickers and chooses to lock his arms around Rea. Trip stands against her shoulder and licks wildly at her cheek. She tenses dramatically, but can’t move about while he has his arms locked around her. His sigh catches on her ear as she spins about. That yellow spiraling eye is almost hypnotic if it wasn’t so yearning and wide. And yet, there is a pull—

_A faceless man bearing two scars holds my hand-_

_My hands are numb and red. That wasn’t a normal snowball-_

_My brother. He’s so cool._

_Why won’t they look at me?_

_Warmth and golden light is coming in._

_Fire soars into my eyes. Air is scarce._

_A foreboding knife dripping with sweat and dust._

_Corpses piled higher and higher._

_“It’ll never end, will’t?”_

_“It won’t ever end.”_

_“Wait, who’s that?”_

_“What?”_

_“I am hearing myself.”_

_“Why would I say that?”_

_Soaring flames._

_Golden halls._

_Fearful eyes; glaring and staring._

**_Pain._ ** _**Such pain.**_

_“Why does it hurt?”_

_“It always hurts.”_

_“But I’m fine.”_

_“That’s a lie, and I know it.”_

_A tiny light, beating slow._

_White. Small. Yet existing.  
It bathes in a light. Orange, green and an ocean blue. _

_A hand cups it. Warmth spreads through me._

**That door. That human. That day. That smile.**

**Those jokes. Those people. Those mistakes. Those deaths.**

_“I don’t want to remember.”_

_“Remember? These never came to be.”_

_“That’s a lie, and I know it.”_

_“It’s not a lie. These are not mine.”_

_“They are mine! I cannot feign ignorance!!”_

_“Whatdya say?”_

_“Wha-“_

**Gold. Blood. Dust. Smile. Hold. Death. Gone. Repeat.**

**Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat-**

_“Just stop!!”_

_“This isn’t mine!”_

_“What are you saying?!”_

_“. . . . . You?”_

_“Yes, you!!. . . . You, right?”_

**They’re coming. They’ll take me. I’m doomed. I’ll be used. Abused. Tortured. Killed.**  
They’re coming for me now. For them. I can’t do it. I wasn’t capable from the start.  
They’ll take them. They’ll kill them. Then me. Or not.  
A fate worse then death. I don’t want it. Just kill me. It burns. It burns so much.  
I’m being burned alive. There’s nothing here. Nothing. No one. Nobody.  
Nobody will come for me. I am alone. Always, forever, _alone_.

_“What is-“_

_“Oh my god. . . . “_

_“Why is this happening?!”_

_“What the fuck?!”_

_“What are y-“_

_“Sans?!?!?”_

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

You blink and pull back. Sweat is covering your skull; _his_ skull. You peer down. His soul rests comfortably in your hand. Your cheeks flush. Shutting your eyes, you shove it back into his ribs. He chokes briefly, then gasps. You open your eyes, shielding the one with your hand.

“wha-“ “OHMYGOD-“ You throw yourself from his grip and thud backwards onto the carpet. Something zips past your vision as cracking fire and TV begins to play in your ears. You’re panting and hear someone sigh behind you.

“Hmmm, S-Sans, when were you over th-“ “OH GOD I’M _SO_ SORRY!!” You blurt out with panic. Sans seems stunned and feels around his ribcage. His face grows confused as he blindly feels about, but he looks to your hand. Etched across it are white and light blue marks similar to chalk. Residue. His face instantly turns light blue and his jaw drops.

“we-we were- _you_ \- _were you-?!_ ” His sentences falter as you push yourself up to your feet.

“Sans? Is Asgore still asle-“ “I’M NOT HUNGRY!!!” You scream back to Toriels interruption and fly upstairs. You briefly catch the flabbergasted stares of Toriel and Asgore, but the only thing you hear is “wait, Rea!!”, and your legs fly.

Rushing into your bedroom you slam and lock the door. Tears begin to well in your eyes, memories flash before your mind – they are _definitely_ not yours. You croak back a sob when the air begins to whir. Instantly you forgot Sans’ capabilities and fly into the study. The door won’t budge as you try to push the door shut.

“Rea!” “I’M SORRY, ALRIGHT?! JUST LET GO!” You scream back and push harder. “I need answers!!” he also sounds like he is on the verge of sobbing. You make slight head way with the door, but something snags the top. Looking up, that draconic skull he used to shoot in the void is gnawing at your door. Gasping and falling back in fear it may fire, Sans throws the door open and nearly forcing you to fall backwards. The instant he is in, the door slams shut and he grasps your arm. It isn’t tender, but it isn’t hurting either. His face is full of confusion and fear, tears popping out his sockets wildly.

“R-Rea, what’d ya-“ “I looked into your soul, okay!? It-It was an accident! It _happens_!” “That isn’t somethin’ tha’ just _happens_!” You were both blurting things out and sobbing. He pulled you closer to his ribcage and his tears trickled through your hair. Your arms found their way around his back, and you held each other.

“why do I feel like this?! why are we-“ “I-I looked to-too deep. My eye- it-I-I can’t- it just _does_ it! It takes time- I can’t just turn it off!!” “there were bodies, just _bodies_ -“ “Don’t think about that! Those are mine! You didn’t need to see that!!”

You’re clutching at each other desperately as you fall onto your knees.

“I-I couldn’t _breathe_ Rea. what happened-“ “ I-I don’t know…” You wept harder and pleaded into his shirt. There was such comfort and sorrow now. Before it was disdain and indifference. Yet, now, you needed his words, his bones, his heat.

“Fire, golden light, Fr-Frisk-“ “the knife-“ You both pause and breathe. He grips your head and presses you into his clavicle. Your eyes keeps surging as you keep it shut tight. It feels like an eternity you sit there cradling each other. This sort of interaction would usually repel you- making bonds isn’t something your line of work allows. Yet you can’t push him away, nor press him closer. It’s an agony of a distance compared to what you had before. Forcefully delving into someone soul was never something you wanted to do, and the few times you _had_ done it was to exploit weakness. Sans’ weakness was also his strength, and you would never be able to forget it now.

Time eggs on and the gasps grow quiet. You both still have a fresh stream of tears rushing down your face. You hear the front door burst open, and Sans flinches.

“SANS? REA? IT IS TIME FOR DINNER! THE GREAT BROTHERLY PAPYRUS HAS ASSISTED IN HAND-CRAFTING THE SHEPHERDS PIE! ALONG WITH FRISK OF COURSE!!” Papyrus calls out and stomps around your room.

“I-I’ll, uh, be there in a m-minute Paps!” He calls back as you grip his arm.

“SANS?.....REA?.....YOUR MAJESTY ARE YOU CERTAIN THEY RAN UP HERE?” Papyrus calls back.

“Paps, we’re in here-“ You squeeze his forearm and shake your head.

“H-He can’t hear anything in here. I’ve sound proofed it.” You mumble and wipe your face. He stands and turns to the door, before you add “The door is sealed with a spell and some keys. ‘Course the keys don’t do me shit since you guys can apparently just raid my room whenever. That’s why the spell is there. You can’t Void travel in, nor out.” You sigh and focus on breathing slower. Sans gives a test twist of the knob to no avail. He grumbles and scratches his skull.

“so, we’re having a talk?” He leans against the door and crosses his arms with a sniffle. Your face thoroughly rubbed free of the _still_ running tears, you work your way onto your feet. _How the hell am I going to explain what just happened_ , you whimper in your mind. Turning towards him, his eyes are wide as he looks about the room. He leaves his spot against the door and gingerly steps around; you rub your head in thought.

“Just don’t touch anything, please. You’re _not_ supposed to be in here.” You stress and look for the mug you had in here before- there should still be water in it. While picking around the contents of your desk, you find a package from Tic Tac. When it arrived in your room you’re uncertain, but you undo the construction capsule to find a Gnawing Eye. It’s a specially made eye-patch for you. You work it onto your eye and feel a slight pain, but otherwise relief. Turning back, Sans is nearing the computer screen where your series of documented data and files lies; the SAVE Star glimmers and catches his eye.

“…..how’d you get all di-“ “Look, I said this wasn’t somewhere you should really be. If I am _supposed_ to live here, I’d rather know what I can about you guys so I don’t start up any shitty conversations such as “Oh wow. So you’re the king who murdered six children – wow, nice to meet another murderer!!” or such.” You grumble and click off the files. He looks discontented with the answer as you continue to pillage about in search of the mug. Finally finding it resting by the window, you’re thoroughly depressed to find it evaporated away. Sighing and turning back, Sans is reaching out towards the realm-watcher. You snap forward and seize his hand.

“I _told_ you not to touch anything, so _please_ don’t-“ Both of you freeze as faint lights appear between you. His soul has popped free of his ribcage as yours is still emerging from your chest. You shriek and shove yours and his back in there proper space without thought. His face is bright blue and he feels about his ribs warily.

“wh-why’d it c’me out?” Sans whispers and feels around his chest cavity as you take gulps of air. _Just a simple touching gesture results in this intensity....._

“Sans. I-I _need_ you not to panic, or tell anyone about this.” You put your hands up in warning and catch his attention.

“We are likely in a temporary soul bond—“ “YOU DID _WHAT?!?!_ ” He shrieks and his cyan iris bursts into solid form.

“Ca-Calm down! I can _feel_ your intentions and it’s _hard_ to breathe!!” You yell back and clasp your head. Every minute each raw emotion was getting clearer and certainly more intentional. His eye flits around sheepishly as he looks at his ribs again.

“why- how- _what_ happened?!” His teeth are grit tight and he is shivering.

“My-My eye- it’s sorta like ‘popping’, but weirder? Imagine kind of like a swing. You can’t stop mid swing because of the force behind it. Now imagine you’re halfway through said swing and something crosses your path you don’t want to hit. Imagine that you _were_ able to stop the swing, but all the force and energy behind it built into one thing so if you _used_ said thing it would react with equal energy output.”

“My eye is one of the main sources of magic for me and the main controller of release. When Toriel slapped my face earlier, I had an internal ‘pop’, but knew I couldn’t take it out. So all of the energy got stored away into my eye. If energy gets stored into my eye it can have……I’ll say multitude of effects because that’s accurate.” You grumble and knead at your forehead. You were starting to feel his thoughts, even hear vague bits of them. Most of them mirrored his current confusion, and the close proximity was doing little to assist.

“so, like, the time distortions- that was you?” Sans clears up as you nod.

“Those were unintentional.” You murmur back.

“ _Unintentional._ ” He mimics. You can feel the surprise or sarcasm radiating off him.

“Look it does what it wants! And- and if I _look_ at somebody too long I look into them, into their memories, and _eventually_ their _soul_!! I don’t mean to!”

“that’s not a thing of not meaning to! do you have _any_ idea how private that is?!” If Sans had hair he’d likely be ripping it free from his skull as he begins to pace around.

“Well I’m sorry I didn’t mean to just grab your soul! It just naturally happened!!” You huff and turn about with aggravation. Frustrated tears well up into your eyes again as you bite your lip. There is a choking sound from behind you.

“so, how-“ He gasps and fabric moves about, “how long does- does _this_ last?”

“I don’t know…..I’ve never gone that deep before. I never _wanted_ to.” You mutter back and rub your freezing arms. “I-I atleast know it’s not, like, an official bond. It should dissipate within about…..I don’t know, a week.”

“I have to feel you for a week?!” He growls and you glare back at him. His anger immediately subsides as he catches your frustrated tears.

“I’ve got to deal with this too!! I know it’s my fault, and it’s just as bad for me as you! I don’t _do_ bonds! You might, eventually, but this is—I didn’t want to know what you were thinking, or feeling! That’s _your_ business! But I don’t want you to hear my thoughts either!!” You pace besides the window and gnaw on your lip.

“This entire thing is making me super emotional and hormonal or _something_ and I can’t get my friggin’ tears to stop because the only thing I can keep seeing in my _friggin’_ mind is that golden hall, over and over a-and-“ His boney hands find your wrists and tug them back into him before he envelops you into a hug. He clutches you tight and breathes against your ear as you press back.

“St-Stop! You need to let go, we _cannot_ solidify the bond. Any interactions like this’ll just make it harder to split!” You plead and he tightens around you.

“I never-“ He whispers into your ear while stroking your hair. It’s relaxing and it takes all your will power to continue to relent against him.

“I never wanted…. _anyone_ …….to have to experience what I went through….”

You stand there silently and let the scent of his jacket seep into you. At worst, you’d probably be desperate to see him at the very end of the week, doze off after crying yourself to sleep, and then wake up feeling just sad and alone. You weren’t sure the repercussions it would have on monsters, especially weak ones such as Sans. He didn’t seem emotional to begin with. He was only so open and non-jokey now likely because of the faint bond formed. It wasn’t a solid one, so hopefully there wouldn’t be many issues. The best you could likely do for him and yourself was create a gap between you both until it wore off some.

Yet you can’t push him away now. His voice is laced with fatigue and sadness.

“It-….It could be worse. You had a nice place to grow up.”

“yep. ‘nder a rock.” You feel your face freeze and frown as he manages a slight snicker.   

“You know what I meant.” You clarify and push him back and away from you. “H-How are you feeling now?”

“eh, mostly jus’ like I need t’ hold somethin’. warm would b’nice.”

“So, anything small and warm would be fine?” You persistently ask and move away from him. His eyes follow you though as his demeanor calms.

“alive’d b’nice…” He whispers and takes a step forward. You feel about the study door and murmur the incantation carefully. If Sans learned it you don’t doubt he would worm his way back in here.

“’ey….Rea?” His voice rolls in your ears and you force yourself to ignore it as the door finally opens. You feel his presence behind you now as you scoop up the one thing you were looking for.

“Here.” You plop Trip into his arms and his face looks stunned once more.

“Small, warm and alive. Now get out of my room before I have another emotional breakdown I don’t want you near.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah.  
> Trying to jump ahead 3 chapters and then deciding I dont want to; but then also not wanting to rewrite about HALF this chapter - AWESOME!! MORE FILLER!!!!  
> Please don't hate me TuT  
> Leave some comments if you don't hate me.  
> I'd appreciate it~  
> [ Here's The Official Tumblr Page - Stop On By =D ](https://blbf-fanfic.tumblr.com/)


	15. That Fateful Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy New Year~  
> Bye, 2017!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY FUCK I'M SORRY?!?!  
> Work held onto me longer then I thought, and I had so many presents to hand make - all the hats and scarves fam, like GOD.   
> Wanted to get this done for Christmas, but a lot happened and 'tis the season to spread illness~
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed the year, isn't freezing in my -6 degree weather, and will have a great start to next year!!   
> Hit my up on Tumblr if you have any questions.   
> Again, really sorry - It's a short chapter, but I wanted to let you all know I am alive, well, and this is not getting discontinued. I'm working on it, promise!

You sniffle back the tears and snot as you ascend the mountain. Despite the thick snow, the harsh wind, and the blurry storm, you climb. Nobody below would miss you or need you – unnecessary presence was all you brought. A tall fire, loud with laughter and cheer roared even from the distance you’d made. Even past the pain and numbness, you preferred the cold to the scorching flame. The laughter and cheer died on the pitching winds as you huddled further into the light coat and fumbled through the snow.

At last, you reached a silent space. You’d discovered it about a year back – a vast hole which, while emitting no heat or light, was free from snow or wind. The majority of the branches surrounding the hole were treacherous and the ground was unstable; you knew better then to near it. Yet your constant curiosity continued to pull you right to the edge. The majority of the time, as you gazed deeply into the endless dark, you’ve thought about plummeting down. A pit seemed nicer then the company of those who only glared down and cast you aside. You sighed and leaned back; it wasn’t a good idea- you liked being alive even if it was in a sense. Sitting cross legged against the one sturdy branch you confided in you lay back against the grass and gaze at the overhead snow storm that seemed miles away.

Past the muffled laughter, the freezing winds cries, and your own heartbeat and demure thoughts; a song. Jumping in surprise and nearly slipping into the dark void, you peer around for prying eyes. Toning the rest of the world out, you focus on the kind and gentle voice. A hum if anything – it was in the earth. You pressed your ear against the soil and grass, letting it tickle at your ear as you listened and leaned closer. Mimicking the hum, words that mimicked garble in your brain simply ushered out. The darkness faded, and a systematic channel down glowed with golden light. You gasped and repelled back out of fear and anticipation as your heart thrummed faster.

A gasp; not your own.

“H-Hello?” A timid voice called back. The snow and laughter grew silent as you crawled tentatively towards the hole. Cautiously, you peeked beneath a branch. A plot of golden buttercups as bright as the sun rested in a vibrant green patch of grass. It was centered in an almost marble white stone that lost its shimmer as the darkness swallowed the rest invisible to your eyes. Peering past the root, you saw him.

A goat was the closest thing to relate their bipedal appearance. Despite the distance, you could make out the tiniest features; green glimmering eyes, tiny fangs, the freshly knit green and daisy yellow sweater. Curiosity parallels to you on his face as you lean against the sturdy branch.

“Hello?!” You shout back down and watch their face glow with joy. They drop their little basket of flowers and focus all attention to you.

“Howdy! I’m Asriel! A-Are you a hu-human?” His joyful mirth suddenly diminishes into shyness as you lean over.

“Um, hi! Uh, y-yes, I’m human….I think?” You mutter.

“What was that?” He yells back up – the distance and blizzard muffles plenty of his words when he isn’t speaking up.

“I said I think I am human!” You yell back which bounces with an echo. He shushes you and looks off towards the distance you can’t see.

“D-Don’t say it so loud! The guards are nearby.” He says back.

“But you shouted.” You grumble.

“That doesn’t matter ––– stars my SOUL nearly jumped outta me.” He sighs with a chest heave.

“Your what?”

“Y’know, the thing that is the center of life?”

“You mean myour heart?” You point at your chest.

“No, your SOUL, silly! Golly, so it is true!” He flops down into the patch of flowers as you rest against the branch in wonder. This bizarre creature, while clearly not human, was talking to you. _Smiling_ at you. Nobody had ever done that; it was welling a tender feeling in your heart.

“What’s true?” You ask curiously.

“That humans don’t really utilize their SOUL! You don’t even know what it is!” He explains rather brazenly as you pout.

“Well, what’s it to you?”

“It’s taught in school, but we grow up knowing it! The SOUL is the source of monster magic and the cultivation of our being. Magic _is_ our being, and we are made of the prime elements of a soul – thusly, monsters are what you would define as ‘Pure’!” He tangents as you lock eyes with him.

“You’re a monster? I thought that was just legend.”

“I heard about that too. A lot of books and debris winds up in the water, and it makes it down here. The pages might get washed away, but I can still tell that monsters have only become a myth to humans…” He sighs and looks downtrodden.

“….I’ll-……I’ll tell them!” You shout down. His eyes widen and sparkle with the moonlight – its tender, yet vibrant. “I’ll tell my village! I’ll tell the world! You’re the nicest person I’ve ever met – why do you deserve to be in this-this- _this hole_?!” You add on.

“I’m…..I’m the nicest person you’ve _ever_ met?” Red tints his white cheeks as your face heats up.

“Uh, well, y’know, ‘cause, _um-“_ You mutter on as he catches you with “What did you mean?”

“Well, um, you’re just n-nice, and not many pe-“ “I meant when you weren’t human. Are you, like, a hybrid?” His head tilts; it’s clear he is redirecting the awkward conversation as you solemnly take the hint.

“Well, uh, I-I have….y’know?” You point to your hair and face.

“What? Hair?”

“No, ugh, my-my appearance.” You grumble and hide in your hands.

“What’s wrong with your appearance?”

“I-I’m _not_ supposed to h-have white hair or-or these _weird_ eyes! And I can do things!” You shout back down while he shushes you again. He squints and sighs.

“I can’t see it well because the light or whatever is shadowing you!”

“The light?” You turn upwards and spot the glimmering moon. “Oh, the moon.”

“ _That’s_ the moon?!” He gasps and jumps to his feet.

“…Yes?”

“It’s HUGE!!!” He screams and gapes with a smile. You shush him this time as he clamps his paws over his mouth; his eyes never leave the orb in the sky. You bite your lip and peer around on the surface – there were plenty of hearty trees with vines cascading down. You press off the branch, mind buzzing with thoughts as an adrenaline takes hold of your limbs. Knots are tied with your numb fingers working nimbly to strengthen the line. You hear Asriel echo up to you a few times as you tug the vines around the tree. Testing the grip and lasting adrenaline, you hurl the vines length down the hole.

“Ow!” Asriel sounds out after a dull thud echoes up. You wince at your idea, but you already are putting faith in your grip as you near the edge.

“Oh this is a bad idea.” You murmur as you give it a final test tug.

“What the stars is this-“ Asriel tugs the other end of the vines and the opposite force pulling downward slips you free of the roots edge. Your hands graze hard against the vine as you scream in horror and Asriel screams along with you. Palms burnt and itchy, you land and fall backwards into a patch of petals flying up and fluttering back down into your face. You groan and hiss as you lurch up and inspect your hands – cuts and rough burnt patches cover them as you hum in agony. A fuzzy hand presses against your shoulder as you whip about to come face to face with him. Up close, his snout and mouth were somewhat connected, emerald eyes twinkling with fascination and cheeks a plush rose red.

“Golly….” He whispers and covers his snoot. You blush and untangle some petals from the unkempt hair you’d bothered to grow out and hide your face. He halts your actions and gazes into your eyes with wonder.

“You’re so pretty..” His eyes calm and turn from tender to loving as your face ignites with heat. In an instant, he mimics you perfectly and lets both hands fly upwards to the sides of his face.

“UM, WELL, YKNOW, I MEANT, UH, YOU LOOK NICE, _NO_ , WELL NO, NOT THAT YOU DON’T, I MEAN, IN HUMAN STANDARDS, YKNOW, UM, OH GOLLY GOSH, EEEEHHHHH-“ He slumps into a crouch and buries his face into his hands. You gaze about at the relatively bland and monotone room, besides the path leading to a purple door with some form of insignia. The moon bathes the golden field with a fainter shade as you feel about the buttercups.

“They’re lovely. I haven’t seen anything this vivid bloom in the village.” You offer your own deterrent from the awkward air. His green eyes peek past furry paws and he lets his legs reach out to fiddle a flower between his toes. You can’t resist staring in fascination at such a simple thing.

“So, is it always that big?” He leans back and comforts his head with his arms. You copy his position to find him fixated on the moon.

“Not really _that_ big. It’s just full tonight. Everyone thinks it’s a good omen for the holiday.” You shrug and settle in – the flowers weren’t exactly warm, but they also weren’t frigid grass and dirt.

“Holiday?” Asriels ears perk up.

“It’s Christmas.”

“Oh oh! I read a book about something like that! This weird human comes down your chimney with presents right?!” He startles you with sudden enthusiasm and joyous eyes as you snicker just a tad.

“Yeah, except…” You peek towards the door and shuffle closer to him, “Some kids at my school are gossiping about how it’s all fake.” you whisper. He gasps and covers his snout.

“But why?” He asks.

“I think it’s the parents who want their kids to believe in something….fantastical? Magical?”

“Like monsters?” His smile is broad and you roll your eyes and nudge him hard with your elbow. He giggles and settles in again.

“So what actually happens on Christmas then?”

“Parents must give their kids the presents. I hear them always asking for ‘Santa’s Gift List’ anyways.”

“Couldn’t you just ask _your_ parents?.......Wait, why are you up the mountain in this storm if it’s Christmas? Shouldn’t you be enjoying it too?” Concern knots his eyebrows as you cradle your legs up tight. You defiantly look at the marbled rocky floor.

“I’m a freak, Asriel. My parents don’t really like that they had me, so they pretend I don’t even _exist_ half the time. Because of how I look, how I _am_ , people are calling me a _witch_.” You clarify and let your nails dig into your legs.

“My classmates pick on me, my teachers ostracize me, the neighbors-“ “Ostra-what now?” He interrupts as you can’t resist glaring at him. Startled about, concern fills his features as your eyebrows knot hard into your nose. You can feel the frustrated tears brimming in your eyes as you finally take in his worried expression. You let your hair hide your face as you press it against your knees.

“I’m _alone_. I’ve got nobody. So this….you talking to me…….it’s my Christmas wish come true, honestly.” You murmur. Loudly, you let a hard sniffle rake your senses as you scrub your arm against your eyes. Your palms press against your cheeks to dry them quick, but a tiny yelp comes from your voice as the tears soak into the open cuts and blemishes from the vines. Lightly cursing under your breath you fiddle with your pockets for fresh bandages. A warm, fuzzy hand uptakes your hands as you look back to Asriel with a caring gaze. He looks to your eyes for a moment; confirmation. When nothing is said, his focuses centers back onto your hands as a green glow emanates from the conjoined palms. You gape and nearly scream, but looking back onto his sweet eyes and calm aura, you are lost to the silence. Minutes pass before he releases your hands from the tingly glow. It fades as the pain has all but vanished; your hands are soft and supple as never before.

“H-How-“ “I told you! Monsters are made of all the SOUL senses! That includes Kindness – and Kindness can heal!” Asriel puffs his chest out triumphantly with a wide proud smile. His eyes pop open as he grabs the basket of flowers. The nails from his paws perfectly crochet the stems together as he hastily fashions a little bracelet of buttercups for you. Slipping it around your wrist and tying it off with a knot, he turns it about to let you bask in the flowers fresh fragrance.

“What’s your name?” He quietly asks. Fresh tears brim at your eyes and warm your cheeks as you bring your eyes to meet his green gaze.

“……….. _Grace_.” You whimper out.

“Grace, Merry Christmas.” He smiles and pats your hand. So long; nobody had said your name so softly and yet it echoed through your mind as the tears poured down. You sniffle it in and fiddle with your pockets. Pulling free a candy bar, you hand it to Asriel. Even if it was the last thing your savings could buy, you knew this sweet person deserved it.

“M-Merry C-Ch-Christ-m-mas, Asriel.” You whimper out past a gagged sob. His eyes get _stars_ in them as he takes hold of the chocolate.

“Asriel?” The voice is preceded with a couple of heavy knocks. It is a deep and rumbling voice; Asriels fur stands on edge.

“Uh, y-you gotta go!”

“Wha-“ No sooner are the words coming out of your mouth is Asriel shoving the vine back into your hands.

“My-My dads coming! I-I don’t know how he’d be with a human being down here. Go talk things out with your folks, okay? You’re not weird- I think you’re cool!” Asriel assures as he pats your back. You sniffle and rub clear your eyes. He fixes up your coat as the knocks come heavier against the almost stone door.

“I- I’ll tell them, okay?” You whimper back down and he nods with assurance. Focusing all your strength in your arms, you hastily climb the swinging vine. Asriel must hold the end for you as it sway increasingly less the further up you crawl. Finally hitting the sturdy root, you practically whip the vine up and untie it from the tree, lest anyone else discover the hidden people. The rumbling voice powers through the hole as you hear Asriel yell something back in reply. You can’t resist cupping your hands together – something you’d learned to do was channel your thoughts into a bubble. You focused every happy and thankful fiber of your being into your mind as a pink and yellow slew of bubbles flutter down into the hole. With a confident smile, you button up your jacket, hide the bracelet, and trample down the snowy edge.

* * *

 

* * *

Christmas is over.

The town is shunning your parents even as you curl into a little bruised ball.

Even with the disdained eyes, the heavy scowls, and the hiding of their children, you screamed the truth over the roaring fire. Of the sweet monsters housed in the mountain who knew magic – who seemed to be more like you than any of the villagers. They shouted names, threw stones, and angrily presented you towards your parents.

_They were less then pleased_.

You could hear the laughing howls from beyond the walls; “There wasn’t anything up there!” “Monsters aren’t real!” “Crazy little witch!” “Why do we tolerate the little wench?!” “Lying family; the lot!”

“Am I crazy?” You murmur and huddle against your riggidy bed. A soft, velvet touch presses against your wrist. Curious, you reel back the sleeve.

The bracelet, while dying, is still as vivid as his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!   
> [ Here's the Tumblr Page! Stop on by and say Hi <3 ](https://blbf-fanfic.tumblr.com/)  
> If you could still support me and all the waiting, please pop a like or even hit that bookmarking button. It really just- OOOH I can't put it in words TuT"   
> I appreciate you guys so much; it hurts.


	16. Time to Deal With It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rea has a split, stressful, and **super** long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ho boi I should've updated this sooner. SORRY ALL!!  
> But, hey, look!! 15k!!!!  
> *Pats own head*  
> So about halfway through the chapter I literally scrapped the summary and went my own way. I already see all the ways this'll bite me in the ass, but I'm too busy to bother redoing the **majority** of this chapter, soooo........  
> ~(o3o)~

You refuse dinner. Despite your stomach churning, you can’t sit within a strict vicinity of Sans. Immediately you dive into research – on how to break the temporary bond. You forced Sans to leave you alone by threatening to erect an entire barrier around your room. He backed away cautiously though his eyes lingered on your form past the slammed door. Asgore and Papyrus came up a few times to fetch you; you hid in the study with your eyes skimming crazily over scrawls Mirage had sent you pictures of. You were fortunate that she hadn’t inquired the purpose of your research – it was her sleeping time and she wanted to delve back into the pleasant dreams of others.

Hours passed before you lean back in the chair. Rubbing your eyes with a sigh you click off the picture.

“Not a _damn_ thing…” You grumble to yourself and scrub the sleep from your eyes. It’s a little past one at the moment as you stand and stretch. A message sound resonates from your phone as you fish it free of your tiny shorts pocket and skim the paragraph Mirage sent.

**Mir – I don’t know why you need those pages but tell me later alright? <3  
Baysoph doesn’t think you’ll have time to do your job, your other job, and tending the barriers while looking for another person to take your place. Are you overworking yourself? You remember what happened last time!! You were in the recovery resuscitator for way too long!!! I know you have this desperation to stick things through but maybe put some stuff on the backburner. I think even if you cover the barriers Baysoph may look into other mages simply to alleviate any questioning from Zebb.**

**Stay low though. He found out quickly we left for a quick period of time. He also asked how long an excursion you were taking and if you were plotting to skip on the Bond Ball? You forget that was coming up didn’t ya? – It’s in about 2-3 days at your place.**

Biting at your nails you channel the anger aside to prevent from chucking the phone out the window. You could scream and punt a newborn over the moon, but Papyrus would be upset. You pause and ponder yourself on the involvement of Papyrus suddenly in your mind, but you immediately make the connection with a groan. The magic accumulates again and drains from your eye as you give a sigh and return to the remainder of the message.

**I’ll make sure to send your dress on the day of it so you ACTUALLY remember. You skipped out last time because you’d been dealing with that sticky situation-**

You vaguely recall when she sent the text regarding the ball and you’d been only a few worlds in to your barrier reconstruction work and come across a ‘Tsuchigumo’ as the humans put it. Praising Muffet for her tiny demeanor and a shiver to the threads you’d spent twelve showers stripping from your platinum hair, you continue the text.

**Tic-Tac is finishing the package soon. He also said you should have gotten the Gnawing Eye. Further proof you’re overworking yourself AGAIN. Just try to get a day off before the whole situation, alright? Zebb’s been more pissy than normal.**

That was the sole thing you both shared. You skid the phone across the desk and massage your forehead. _Work, Barrier Checks, Staying Low with Zebb prowling, Hunting Black Hearts, Attending that ‘Ball’ – how much caffeine am I going to need?_ You ponder in your mind as you swivel from the chair. Cautiously, you peek out the study for any sign of Sans – monsters, being a more emotion based type, likely took bonds more seriously than mages had. Thankfully, he was absent from the room. You place a hasty barrier around your room and collapse onto your bed to sink into the mattress. You relax instantly despite the heap of work still required of you.

Morning comes too quickly. You threaten to punch the alarm into a plate shape, but you need to wake up tomorrow. Padding in the bathroom you immediately catch it – the window. There are little scratches on it. Opening it a hair you reach around to feel the exterior damage; nails or metal whisked across it quickly from the vague texture you can make out. You glared at the floral trellis and arches besides the house, but close the window. It wasn’t on your priority list. Your arms station at the sink as you carefully peel off the Gnawing Eye. The after effects are your eye is more drained of color and it lazily attempts to stay open. You splash your face with freezing water. Sputtering, you pat your face with a towel. It regains vague color and follows your other eye when doing the mandatory check on each corner of the mirror.

“I’ll just wear sunglasses if anyone notices….” You grumble to yourself, push off the sink and return to dress yourself. You were getting out early today but you weren’t sure how ‘up-to-date’ Asgore wanted to be about your whereabouts.

Wandering downstairs you catch Undyne briskly walking out the door. You’re in her blind spot so she doesn’t spare you one, but you can feel a glare coming from her one good eye. Turning towards the kitchen you catch Asgore scratching his neck agitatedly while snagging a mug of coffee likely. You wander in; Papyrus and Frisk are having some contest with chopsticks and cereal, Alphys is shimmying on a lab coat, and Toriel and Sans are returning from the outside. Sans immediately locks eyes with you as you break the direct contact in favor of toasting a bagel. Asgore comes to your side as you await the toasting progress.

“How was your sleep? Your face looks…….um…” He stops himself mid-sentence, likely rethinking his words as you sigh.

“Is it this eye mostly?” You point to the lazy eye as Asgore squints. He gently turns your face towards the light and winces.

“What happened?” He asks as you twist your head from his paw.

“Nothing important. It was for the best. I’ll make sure to snag some sunglasses.” You pull free your phone and peruse your internal storage. Finding your spare square tinted glasses you load them as they materialize into your hand. Asgore looks puzzled and concerned.

“How did-“ “If you want to know how this phone works you’ll need to discuss that with Tic-Tac if he ever comes back. Also, Asgore, I have things to take care of after work so don’t bother making me a dinner plate.” Your fingers fiddle in the fridge as you free the small cream cheese container and dig for a knife in the drawer.

“ _What_ work?” Asgore has his arms crossed as you turn to address him slightly lethargic.

“Is today just the day you bring up lots of questions, or is it a morning thing?” You whisper as the toaster dings and you gingerly snag the still toasty bagel. As you spread cream cheese over it, you say “It’s mostly barrier checkups. I’ll also do some digging on those Black Hearts or whatever they call themselves. I don’t have work with Muffet tomorrow so I won’t be home ‘til early morning most likely. In a couple days also I have something else to attend so……just don’t bother making extra dinner for me for the next, like, four days or something.” You finalize and take a bite into the bagel.

“whatchya goin’ on ‘bout?” Sans jumps into the conversation while pouring a fresh brew of coffee into a mug that has a skeleton on it saying ‘I can’t come to the phone right now. I’m dead without my coffee.’ Hiding a tiny giggle behind your hand and stuffed mouth, you ponder the cute pun. You flinch instantly and bang your head against the cabinet. You slip your sunglasses onto your head, ignore the concerned murmurs of everyone and walk out the back with the remainder of your bagel still getting chewed at.

“wait, Rea.” Sans follows you outside as you grumble and massage your temple.

“Is the door closed?” You ask past the cheek full.

“huh? uh, yeah-“ “If we are going to break this temporary bond we need _distance_ Sans. No physical contact. No eye contact. Complete deprivation of being _near_ each other. And _this_ isn’t helping.” You pointedly nod towards your now suddenly connected hands. For _some_ reason he is massaging your fingers and feeling over your knuckles.

“what?” He follows your gaze and flinches back.

“Didn’t even know you were doing it, huh?” You grumble and bite heartily into the bagel. You ponder over how to speed the process up considering the short timeframe Mirage has now allotted you.

_If Mirage can find a few more variants of the text, even if it takes a bit of studying, this can’t be the only case monitored in history. The scrolls may be a last resort, and I don’t want to let Baysoph in on this issue before I am well-enough prepared._

“you………chee-……”

_Nearly forgot I need to keep a scan going for another potential mage. I’d need to understand the situation as well- ugh this is going to eat up time as well-_

“-Re-………on…lip-“

_-I’ll just need to pull all-nighters for a few days. That should leave me plenty of time. My best bet is in research at this point – monsters are too emotionally based for a bond, even temporary, to vanish in just three days._

Sans’ hand finds your shoulder as you vaguely recall he has been trying to converse with you the entire thought process.

“ _What_ Sans?” You growl, trying to brush him off for the sake of distance. Peering up, his sockets are shut and right before your face. A cool and smooth pressure runs over your lip briefly before he pulls back.

“ya had cream on your lip…” A cyan tongue retreats back behind his teeth. He almost appears shy before he dares to meet your gaze. The instant your eyes meet you both feel a wave of dread. The embarrassment finally reaps over your mind as magic naturally blossoms. Your hair becomes air and wisps off your shoulders as your fingers and heels buzz dangerously with thrill. Despite the cool texture your upper lip feels alit with flame. Your body reflexively scrunches up while wiping your mouth harshly.

“T-Th-Thi-This i-is why I-I-I-uh, ehmm!!” Clearing your throat in embarrassment you beg and will your magic to furl and wither while you hide your face behind the sleeve of the outfit. “Th-This is why I’m putting distance b-between us! Because stupid situations like _this_ could happen!! So-So I’m going away for a couple of days. Try to remember we are trying to _break_ this bond once in a while!” You shout at him and throw yourself hazardously into the Void. You continue to scrub your mouth the short while it takes to reach Muffets.

Little occurs considering the morning bustle has increased with the recent incident still lingering in the community. It likely would for another week. Muffet wasn’t against the sunglasses- she took a fancy to them with a considerate smile. It’s only a smile you saw on Mirage and Alphys when they discussed their fantastical ideas and stories. Of course, you’d only heard the one from Alphys by accident when you stumbled into their side of the house briefly. She was still utterly terrified to near you. Maybe the distance would help? Undyne found out and decreed you weren’t allowed on that side of the house unless they personally permitted it.

It was slightly past noon before things settled enough for Muffet to sigh and relax while assisting with restocking the donuts and ciders.

“Hey, Muffet?” You murmur to her, catching her attention. “You heard that story regarding the Whimsalots house right? You know anything about the Black Hearts? I was curious since I haven’t been in the area long and was wondering what I should know about them.” You pointedly add the last bit in hopes she might give any useful information. She holds her chin gingerly in thought as she hums it over.

“Well, dearie, they tend to come about during the night. Likely to hide their ugly faces. So many monsters got hurt or bullied down in that downtown area that police are prohibiting us access there for our own safety! Plenty of them down there for sure. Be real careful if you ever go there darling.” She waves past you and heads into the back offices. It takes a minute and a couple customers before she comes back up picking where she left off. “Then there is the incident with the Royal Guard and them, so things are trying to be handled gently.”

“What incident?” You snag your water bottle for a quick sip.

“Well about a month or more after we got here and the ‘Black Heart’ rebellion has just started most of the Snowdin dog guard got into, as they put it, an ‘altercation’ with them. Humans put it they started the fight, Doggo says the other way around. But my spiders don’t have eight eyes for nothing dearie, ahuhuhu!” She waves you over to her side as she whispers into your ear.

“Those silly humans picked on them for handing their ‘collars’ to Asgore, and belittled Greater. Dogamy and Dogaressa were defending them, but one of the sideline humans got pushed back and hurt. They blamed the Royal Guard. Asgore and Undyne never really came to an agreement on the punishment for either the Royal Guard or those pesky humans, so their mayor had to. But people think because they couldn’t come to an agreement meant they didn’t know how to cover their tracks; that little incident gave a bit of rise to the Black Heart size and anger.”

You nod along with her while taking mental notes. She gives a few more gossip hints that didn’t seem relevant, but you still keep them in mind. Work keeps a steady pace as you bounce from heel to heel impatiently. The instant your lunch break hits, you sneak into the Void. You nibble on a uncooked bagel as you slip through the Void hazardously while keeping a timer going on your phone to manage how long you are gone despite the time difference. It luckily holds over as you plummet down against Ebott elsewhere.

“Travel quota roughly three minutes from initial Ebott Release Case Code named ‘New World’. Checking initial and support barriers.” Tic-Tac had included a recorder with the last package with a note from Baysoph: if you were to continue barrier checks it was now required to take recording messages so everything was probably enlisted. Feeling and reforming the initial barrier holding Ebott, you can’t deny the frown crossing your face as you seal the monsters Underground longer. Perhaps another Frisk lived in this timeline that could set them free. Shifting to the top where the hole support barrier hid, you peer down to find a practically dead flower bed. Toriel briefly mentioned she tended a patch of buttercups in the Underground Ruins which was cozy on the opposing end of the initial barrier.

Curiosity prodded at your brain as you briskly descend and land softly and silently besides the wilted petals.

“Both barriers check in. Discovery differing from ‘New World’ – the Queens garden isn’t tended to. Hell, it looks abandoned down here.” You recall the brief view of the ruins – purple and majestic. Here lied rust, grime, blood splatter, and darkness hanging from the corners to seep into any spot not lit. It sent chills over your body. Checking your timer, you had ten minutes. Flipping quickly through your inventory and dawning a hood and cloak, you remove the sunglasses in favor of visibility and speed.

“Performing check-up.” You mutter to the recorder, pocket it, and fling yourself forward. Magic kicks at your heels as sparkles dance against your nimble prints. Your eyes spins as you desperately try to take in as much as possible. Dead flowers, dust everywhere. It was enough to show this Underground wasn’t nearly as peaceful as the one you’d wound up staying with. Murmurs catch your ears as you dash and stick to a wall. Peeking past, you catch sight of a Whimsun. At least, it _looks_ like one. The brief view you had from your own timeline versus this one was obvious – its wings were tattered, it scowled constantly, and it wielded a lengthy spike. Regardless of the tiny stature of the obviously irate Whimsun, you sneak past with ease. You sprint through the remainder of the Ruins. Jumping and bobbing around monsters who never see you, past traps; most are tripped already however. Finally you skid to a two way road – one has a wilting tree; investigating the further path you discover a ruined city with fires and screams echoing out the hall. You choose to slip down the other route which brings you upon a little cot. It would perhaps be homely if it lacked the boarded windows, threatening signs, and the exterior walls wildly scratched asunder.

Slinking inside you find the interior isn’t in greater care either. Dead or wrung flowers in slightly smashed vases, wallpaper slashed, and barely any lights save the few that flicker incessantly. A faint sob comes from the left as you choose to slither past and down a set of stairs. Frisk gave quick stories of their adventures; this must be Toriels house. Frisk wanted breakfast and followed Toriel down the stairs where she gave away her plans to seal the Underground. One of the sillier moments, but it gave you a position and angle. You sprint the corridor of the basement and discover a massive door. It takes little will and strength to budge it, but the horrible creak echoing off it doesn’t save face with your stealthy positioning.

The path is missing; blizzard rushing through likely blown the trail away. Yet, distinctly, you catch hints of footprints. Small with a tiny stride. Your heart gives a thump as you dash down the straight between the forest. The tree branches were almost jagged like spears. A log was crushed to timber and sticks on the path that you almost didn’t catch. You leap a small chasm with a barbed wire arch blocking progression while also _not_ considering the gap in the center is much too large. A minute passes before the blizzard eases up. Monsters lurk behind the trees and beneath the snow. The few haggard and desperate eyes flashing from the dark brush give more of the feel of this Underground.

Then it rings on the wind-

“NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH-“ You ignore the rest of the painfully long laugh and propel faster. As you blitz onwards daggers come flying out of a station. Your brief glance to the side shows a grit set of feral fangs growling as a dog lunges forward dual wielding a set of dirks.

“A human!!! _A human!!! HeHeeHeeHEE-_ “ He breaks between his giddy laugh to howl onto the wind. You even hear Papyrus’ laugh die off. Your nimble crunching toes are now accompanied by panting and curses against your life. Skidding across ice and flying past some pines, you encounter more dogs. Sans and Undyne mentioned them – they were part of the Royal Guard. A couple brandishes a set of battle axes while fighting over who gets your head. Another pops from the smallest ball of snow and tries to snag you at your ankles. He nearly gets you too. You can’t help flipping to avoid it; your eyes meet his and horror sinks in instantly. You adjust the hood upon landing and push onwards.

“D-Did you see that?!?!” One of them yells behind you. You aren’t turning back to check because they are on your figurative tail. Ahead, you see quite the scene. A dainty little riggidy bridge. A slew of weapons popping out from beneath and above – flamethrowers, swords, axes, a bomb, sheers; you don’t want to know why one of them is a puzzle book with swiss-army knives clearly poking out the pages. A trembling kid snags the ropes. Beyond, you see bone. Black clothes and sharp points, but bones you recognize.

“B-Boss!!” Another dog yells.

“WHAT?!?” You’re not sure what to make of Papyrus sounding like he gargled a cheese grater, but it’s the closest thing you can relate the voice emitted from him. It’s almost a threatening screech.

“I-Its-“ You grant them no time as a dagger swings down to your left, clipping the rope. The kid gives a yelp as the bridge begins to collapse. You spring onto the wood stake holding them in place and fling yourself across. Grasping Frisks shirt and bringing them close to your gut, you pinch a battle axe swinging crazily above and give yourself an extra boost. Your feet kick off the swords blunt side and find purpose on the other side of the intense ravine.

“That’s a m-mage!! A-A-A M-MAGE!!!” One screams as you spin about to narrowly snag a dirk thrown at your face. Breathing carefully, you cast it down the ravine and flip off Doggo who you finally recognized.

“Yeah yeah. I’m also ‘bout to come back over there and beat your butts. I’d cuss you out too, mister, if this cute little dainty thing wasn’t in my arms, so bugger off?” You give a shooing motion and put down the quivering child. “Hey, hi. You gonna be okay if I skedaddle? I got more to run through.” You wave to them leisurely. The less memories they had, the better. As though to go against those exact plans a red illuminated bone whizzes right past your ear, ripping your hood. Your white hair spills out the sides as you stand to attention. Turning about, you find the brothers so contrastly different.

Papyrus almost seems taller. His teeth are connected and jagged, his nasal cavity pointed, and his entire face feels more like a triangle or a two piece trapezoid then a rectangle or oval with dimples. Even his cheek bones are pointy enough to make someone bleed. His usual long and thin sockets are replaced with horizontal narrow sockets. A scar is grazing down his left eye as a stunned stare turns into a grimace. You catch him shake in his boots the moment your eyes meet. His cape is shorter and haggard with damage, though still a brilliant red. His normally round and white armor piece is replaced with black with pointed shoulder pads. He has tight leather pants, a red belt with a skull, and almost knee high red pointy boots with attached belts to likely make them look cool. His gloves somehow flare a few times before the edge as his fists tighten.

Sans looks _awful_. You’d hug him if you didn’t understand the irrationality and visibly see the vast amounts of sweat coming off him. It was almost concerning how much was beading down his skull. His hood is replaced with a prickly fur lined black coat. Past the coats fur you can vaguely make out his shark-like teeth with a golden tooth prominent at the top. The usual white pinpricks that make his eyes are now a vivid blood red. He dawns a yellow turtleneck beneath his jacket, black and red striped gym shorts, and high top shoes that are breaking down. Peeking above them, you hold your forehead and sigh.

“Really Sans? Red and yellow socks? Are you a lazy slob _everywhere_? Is this a thing I have to get used to?” You point to his socks unknowingly as loads of secrets come simply spilling from your mouth over one grievance.

“you- how-“ Even Sans from this world is gruffer then your normal one.

“Ignore I said any of that. I am spilling way too much information and spending _way_ too much time here. Can you not kill this kid for, like, the next-“ You briefly check your phone and freeze. “Aw what the shit?! I have three minutes?! AH!” You spin and turn to the child – they look a little like Frisk, but not even similar enough to remark them as siblings. Black and white striped shirt, shorter darker hair with fainter skin. Terribly torn jeans with tons of little bandages patted down all over their skin. Little black and red boots. There is a set of red ribbons in their hair.

“Hey, uh, yo-you didn’t hear me cuss. You can’t take these guys as an example – especially Sans; him!! Just, him.” You point to Sans, willing yourself to stop referring to them by name. A searing pain rockets through your hand immediately after extending it. The child gasps and backs away. Turning back towards the brothers, you find Papyrus has lodged a bone right through your palm and into your arm.

“Really? _That_ was necessary? I’m trying to talk to a kid here; way to take cheap shots. Some ‘Great’ Papyrus you are. Ahhh, shit, this is going bad.” You groan and ruffle your hair wildly.

“HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?!” He demands as you hiss and take a good look at the bone lodged in your arm and hand.

“U-Uh-Uhm, mi-miss, you’re bl-bleeding…” The child tugs at your skirt as you whirl about to give them a pleasant smile.

“Oh, you talk! That makes things so much easier! See, I’m _really_ not great at that ASL thing. I tried but I just got too many things going on-“ You can’t finish the sentence as a flurry of sharp bones rockets right towards you and the kid. You fling any in your path away and snag the last one. You don’t hesitate to reverse it and lodge it into the snow between Papyrus’ legs. He jumps back and materializes a staff of bones – each end is spiky and clubbed almost. He freezes the moment your eyes meet.

“I am being _nice_. You don’t attack people who are having a _friggin’_ conversation Papyrus. It’s not polite. Now, if I see one more bone come flying at me, I will have to take restrictive measures. I don’t have the time for that, so just chill. Let Sans mumble stupid jokes into your ear or something. Brotherly bonding.” You wave them off and turn back to the kid. “My cover is completely blown so I’ll just ask – is your name Frisk?” The child nods, but their amber hazel eyes go wide as they hide behind you. You growl and turn back to Sans facing at least four giant skulls accumulating raw magic into their maws.

“Ok. I’ll give you that. That’s not throwing bones at me.” You chuckle dryly.

“ **bone** voyage.” He mutters as they hum with energy. Hastily your encase yourself and Frisk in a couple barriers as the beams splay raw magic at you. It manages to hack through only one to your surprise. You whistle as the magic sizzles away and your barrier drops.

“Okay, first off – that pun was just _bad_. Second off, damn you guys do _damage_! You been beating this kid up like that? _Rude._ ” You hiss the last part as you pry the bone from your palm and arm at last. Sans’ sockets are wide and uncomfortable as he takes a concerned step back.

“oh stars…” He mutters. “h-hey, pap-“ “I TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL ME THAT IN PUBLIC.” He grips his staff tighter and glares down at Sans. He flinches just a hair but tugs at his brothers armor regardless.

“paps, we shouldn’t-“ “I HAVE TOLD YOU COUNTLESS AND COUNTLESS TIME TO CALL ME ‘BOSS’!!!”

“Boss? Geez, how black SOULed are you?” You ask. You push forward in a quick nimble step to be only a few feet away. Papyrus must take it as a threat as the staff swings down. It’s easy to dodge but you kick it out into the ravine. You give him no time to conjure anything else as you entrap him within a triple tier barrier. Withholds the angry screams and everything as he bashes against the magic encasing.

“Now then…” You sigh and turn to Frisk. Sans has teleported noted from the immediate shift in the air and now holds a bone directly at their neck. Frisk is trembling and crying as Sans grips their hair.

“don’t twitch o-or I’ll gut the kid.” He warns. The mere sentence pangs sorrow in your SOUL. Still doesn’t stop you from swinging Papyrus’ bubble around and precariously hanging him on the side of the ravine. Sans sweats harder and gulps clearly.

“o-okay, I’ll give ya tha’.” He brings the bone in closer as you sigh.

“You won’t do it.”

“watch me bitch.”

“You don’t want to reset.” The instant the word leaves your mouth his sockets go blank. Papyrus is pounding against your barrier incessantly as you turn and address him briefly.

“You keep banging like that and my grip might slip. My magic has a distance limit and I am _pretty_ sure this hole surpasses it.” It hurts your heart to see Papyrus scared, but he barely feels like Papyrus anymore. The normally chipper, gallant, enthusiastic and caring skeleton you know well is trying to murder you and berates his only brother. Sans, with his casual uncle happiness and joking, adoration for his friends and family, and just simple attitude; threatening Frisks life and letting Papyrus be like _this_ isn’t him either. Maybe it’s how this world worked, but something in the far back of your mind was screaming things could be different.

“Look, I _really_ don’t have time for this, so I’m going to talk and you are going to listen. I’m just going to start talking. Sans.” You call his name and grab his attention.

“I know you hate them, but I need you to promise me something. I need you to try and fix this Underground. Work with Frisk and Papyrus to make this place at least a place where death isn’t a corner threat away. You clearly don’t want this. Frisk doesn’t want this. I’m certain you don’t want this for Papyrus or any of the others. I know Sans – he isn’t someone to do stupid things like threaten children and let Papyrus here suffer. I don’t know what you’ve been through, but you can fix it. I don’t know how many times you’ve reset. I don’t know how many more will happen. But, Sans-“ Your voice is pleading as his eyelights shimmer back into a white familiar tone.

“If you can promise me you’ll try to make this Underground a better place and I see those results……I can lift the barrier. No human souls required.”

“bullshit.” He sputters out with a dry laugh.

“Do I look like I am fucking around? I came here to _fix_ the barrier. I’m pretty proficient in crafting and deconstructing if I do say so myself.” You point to Papyrus who is looking between you and Sans in a very confused manner.

“ _Sans_.” You stress and he pulls back the bone ever so slightly. “I _promise_. I promise if things look good enough down here, I’ll free the Underground. But if you all are murderous and whatever, I can’t do anything for you. Frisk may, eventually, free the Underground. It’ll take a damn long time if you ask me considering how hostile you all are. But even _that_ isn’t permanent. I can make it _permanent_. I can cancel out the Resets. But not until the barriers undone.”

He clearly is hesitating as Papyrus tries to screech something at him. Your face tightens and the magic from your eye dissipates as you haul Papyrus’ bubble back into the safety of the snow. You kneel into the snow and keep your eyes on his as he watches your every move.

“Trust me like I am trusting you.” You plead. It takes a moment before you see a piece of him internally break. Frisk is released as they rub their head and his teeth grit together. Papyrus is obviously angry as you turn to him and remove a barrier. The screams are muffled, but he still manages to overpower the sound resistant seal.

“Alright. Listen up because I am only going to make this bet once!” You snap your fingers and Papyrus gives an aggressive scowl your direction. You remain unfazed.

“I know a Papyrus. A ‘Great’ Papyrus if you will. He is adored by many – monsters and humans alike. He has virtually _no_ enemies. I, as a mage, look up to him for wisdom and greatness.” You lay on the sarcasm hard as a chip of attention is pressed in.

“From what I’ve seen from _you_ though? You seem to rule over fear. My guess is you have no friends and you _rule_ over Snowdin with your little scowl and instill fear as a sentry in this area. _I_ look up to _my_ Papyrus because I always thought making friends was loads more challenging than making enemies. It takes true courage, perseverance and sheer _greatness_ to have so many friends or allies who look up to you.” You twiddle your hair around thoughtlessly as Papyrus starts scrunching up his face.

“So, I’ve got a bet for you. Simple, really. I bet you can’t befriend everyone in the Underground. You’re not _Great_ enough, honestly.” You pop another barrier to hear him clearly.

“YOU SLIMY LITTLE WENCH!! NOBODY BELITTLES THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS!!” He punches the barrier again.

“See? Right there. I just said you aren’t Great – nothing you’ve done has proven your Greatness to me. Therefore, you’re just…..Terrible. Not a good terrible either.”

“YOU- YOU!!-“

“BUT! If you can show me you have the Underground practically at your feet with genuine appreciation and adoration for you, something that could even rival the King?!” You stand and flash a giddy smile. Papyrus seems almost stunned by your brazen plot. “Well, I think my Papyrus might just start quaking in his little boots. Might even come to you for a tip or two.” Your sly smile presses into your cheeks as you watch the cogs turn in his skull. He stands as awkwardly as it is in the bubble, brushes himself off, and looks down on you like a cheeky pompous guy would. You know that look anywhere since Zebb has it all the time.

“VERY WELL, _MAGE_. ONCE YOU SEE HOW EVEN A _SIMPLETON_ COULD MAKE FRIENDS WITH THESE ABHORRENTLY LOW LV’S, YOU’LL RUE THE DAY YOU DOUBTED THAT I WAS THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS!!! NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!!” You snap your fingers and the bubble pops. Papyrus crunches into the snow with a triumphant laugh echoing out over Snowdin.

“Great, then, as a good first stepping stone? Go hug your brother and apologize.”

“EXCUSE ME?” His laugh is cut off with a predatory growl.

“I don’t need to repeat myself.” You point to Sans who flinches and lets his skull sink into his fur lining.

“WHY?! HE IS REPULSIVE!”

“He is your _brother_ and I vaguely recall he is your _older_ brother. You respect those older then you.” You hash out the common sense as he laughs ironically.

“THAT _SLOB_ IS A WASTE OF SPACE AND TIME! HE CAN DO NOTHING RIGHT, I CONSTANTLY MUST FIX EVEN HIS SIMPLEST OF MISTAKES, AND HE TRIES TO SNEAK IN BAD HUMOR EVERY STEP I TAKE!! HE IS A NIGHTMARE!” Papyrus stamps his foot in clear declaration and crosses his arms.

“You’re siblings. Of course he gets on your nerves. Sans isn’t incompetent or a waste of space. The dude could have a science and meteorological PHD or whatever. If not anything else because he _is_ in fact lazy, a stand-up comedian. Watch him snag gigs all over the world in under a month once you all hit the surface. He’ll rake in cash easy.” You elbow Papyrus to unfurl his rigid stature and begin physically shoving him towards Sans. Sans looks almost flustered with a red tint to his bones before he shrinks back down into his fur lining.

“Also, _since_ he is pretty flipping smart here’s a thought for you – those small menial mistakes he made that you got to fix? They are things that got _you_ recognition. While it might not be a lot, it put you on a higher rung then him in the social standing of this place however it runs. Gave you better advantages. He sticks by your side despite however much you belittle him or toss him ‘bout like a ragdoll. If you asked me, a hug is a small price to pay for someone that loyal to still be staying by your side.” You shove the brothers closer together ‘til there is little then a foot left. Sans looks like he wants to jump into the ravine. Papyrus crosses his arms and glares down at him while you and Frisk mediate. Frisk is more occupied with watching what happens as they sneak a pie slice from their pocket. You don’t want to know how considering your digital inventory.

“SANS.”

“y-yea- bo-boss-“ “HAVE YOU BEEN PURPOSEFULLY FAILING TO PUT ME IN THE SPOTLIGHT WHERE I RIGHTFULLY BELONG?” A silent stare commences as Sans’ grin twitches wider ever so slightly.

“w-what! psh, c-come on boss- ya can’t actually believe-“ “ANSWER YES OR NO, NOW.” A tense air floats about as Frisk quietly crunches into the pie. _Crunches?_

“i-i mean, like, n-not _always_ on purpose, but, y’know, i’m never good a-at anything to begin-“ “ _SANS._ ”

“n-not all the time boss!” “SO YOU _DO_ DO IT?!” “it’s not- i-“ “YOU THINK I AM NOT ABLE TO FEND FOR MYSELF?!” “stars, no, paps!! i just-“ YOU JUST WHAT?! NEXT I’LL BE LEARNING ABOUT WHAT THIS RIDICULOUS EXCUSE FOR A MAGE MEANS BY WHEN YOU’LL FREE THE UNDERGROUND!” You almost want to intervene but frustrated tears brim Sans eyes before it happens.

“i just don’t want others to look at you like they used to bro!!! ya only started a sentry and-and that scar is a nightmarish reminder that i wasn’t there when you needed me!! but yer getting’ ta be independent and ya want your _damn_ space and i don’t want to wander round to find your scarf and dust in the _fucking_ snow because i didn’t do enough again!!!!” He is breathing raggedly as though the words alone were an ordeal. They likely were in all seriousness. Clear regret lines Sans face as his hands get shoved into his pockets. Papyrus is stock still, fidgeting with his fingers. You sigh, round Sans, and nudge him against Papyrus’ chest plate. They both look awkward and unsure as you snag at least one of Papyrus’ arms and swing it around Sans’ back.

“There. You are now in the midst of the miraculous thing known as a brotherly hug. I’d love to tell you to take your time and work things out, but I have business to attend to.” You fidget with your phone as the brothers immediately release each other. You produce a tracker and a thin slip with pen. You jot your universal number down and hand the paper to Frisk.

“Hit me up in, say, five hours or so. Luckily your time is a tad slower than my usual, so you should catch me at night. We can talk if you want. Try to not let these two _idiots_ get hold of it or one’ll be threatening me with friendship and the other will say all the bad puns. I already have enough of that at home.” You admit and ruffle Frisks hair. They smile wide and nod. Despite not being mute, they did prefer not speaking even here.

“SO, WHAT IS THIS RESET THING SHE WAS MENTIONING?” Papyrus is already tapping his foot impatiently again as Sans retreats back.

“no-nothin’ pap- boss!” He corrects himself as you sigh.

“OH IT WASN’T NOTHING. I DON’T WANT _SECRETS_ FROM YOU, WHELP.”

“Papyrus, again, ‘Friends with everyone in the Underground’ includes your brother.” You sigh and fidget about your phone for the time. Frisk hastily pulls their own cell out and copies down the number.

“FINE THEN. YOU WILL EXPLAIN. WHAT ARE THESE RESETS YOU WERE DISCUSSING THAT CAUSED HIM SUCH _DISTRESS_?” Papyrus squints down on you as you rub your neck.

“Really don’t think that’s your territory or business.” You shrug.

“ye-yeah what she said.” Papyrus hastily glowers at Sans. You can tell he really doesn’t want to back down from the subject despite Sans’ hesitance.

“Have you told him before?” You ask Sans who freezes.

“n-no-“ “I don’t mean this run.” You circle your finger around counter clockwise and Sans’ sweat accumulates again.

“SANS.” “Eh, don’t get mad at the guy. You wouldn’t remember.” “WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!” You sigh and rub the base of your neck. You still can’t find the time for your own timeline.

“Papyrus, if I let you in on what a Reset is, you have to be there for Sans and Frisk. Serious business here. There is _no_ looking back and regretting this. Like this is as serious as a soul contract.” Papyrus’ sockets widen in surprise, then thought.

“he doesn’t need to know.” Sans brushes in and stands between you and Papyrus. You can nearly hear the anger click in Papyrus’ head.

“I DEMAND TO KNOW.” He states clearly and folds his arms.

“Alright, come down so I can reach your head.” You quickly wave him down. He leans down and a concerned sweat dribbles down his skull.

“wait, paps!” “IF YOU’RE NOT WILLING TO TELL ME I’LL FIND OUT ON MY OWN!! IF I CANNOT EVEN GAIN THIS MINIMAL AMOUNT OF TRUST FROM YOU, WHAT GOOD IS OUR SIBLING RELATION?!?” You flick on a tracker and rub the back to get the sticky section activated.

“Awwww, he said sibling. That’s progress. Now don’t blink.”

“WHAT?” He doesn’t get another word in as you hook your thumb around his outer skull and, while pinching the tracker between your pointer and middle finger, shove them into his left eyesocket. A short garbled scream comes through and right besides your ear; the tracker presses against his inner skull as you quickly extricate your fingers.

“paps!!!” Sans catches his brother from kneeling too quickly as you flick your fingers.

“Well, that’s one thing I don’t want to do again.”

“what the _fuck_ ’d ya do t’im?!?” Sans snarls and a dangerous red iris overwhelms his socket almost.

“Relax, his eyes fine. I stuck a tracker inside his skull. It’s from an inner universal place. Third level stuff. Since it’s not a material from this world, it’ll carry over. In short, each Reset from now on he’ll remember since he himself will carry over. Just don’t get injured- I don’t know if that carries; safer than sorry. ”

“what?! no- take it out!!” He pleads, looking at Papyrus socket concernedly. He blinks a few more times and the eyelights finally flash back to life. He groans and rubs his socket.

“I mean I can, but-“ You finally find the time and shriek. You’re, at least, six minutes late. “OH STARS AND CHERRY SAUCE I’M LATE!!! MUFFETS GONNA DOCK MY PAY!! AHH- FRISK, JUST CALL ME LATER!!” You wave and rush the only way you can think of – down. You don’t necessarily want Sans to know, yet, that you can utilize the Void like him. Someone gives a shriek as you plummet into the darkness. You use the gravitational speed to get a head start through the Void. As you recheck the time and verify the tracker is active, Mirage sends a slew of links and images – probably about more subject matter you’d inquired about.

Muffet doesn’t take it well as an eight-eyed glare is cast onto you on your instant entrance. Of course she then shrieks as you vaguely recall the hole in your hand and arm.

 

* * *

 

 

The vast amount of lies and sarcasm you lay on Muffet could pay a college tuition for Frisk. The current lie is that it was a prop from the afternoon only available Halloween prop-house your friend Paul is running. He was trying to scare his girlfriend and you helped because he offered to buy you lunch. Then you wound up roped into a pitfall trap where she punched you in the nose and it bled everywhere over your uniform in a very convincing splatter formation. After promising to remove it in the bathroom and return it later, you snuck away, healed up the gaping hole with a few deep breathing exercises, and made your way back with a fresh apron to hide the bloodstains. In the end, she doesn’t dock your pay.

You’re too tired to even consider hurling yourself back out to look for mages or even fix the rest of the barriers in that one timeline you are naming Case Code ‘Edgetown’. You can’t help grinning like a madman each time you consider the toughness of that universe or even just Asgore. It sends a giddy rush through your veins to finally get another tough opponent. Then recalling you’d need to attend that issue with a kind and pacifistic manner dawns in your mind as you heave a sigh and trudge upstairs. You flop onto your bed back first and lay against the mattress as you try to mentally plan out the next two or so days. You didn’t work tomorrow so if you just brought magical-based food you might be able to catch up in your work. The lone issue was food didn’t last long in the Void – the timeless central seems to rot food quicker than you can eat it.

As you are planning the trip, a tiny knock comes at the door. You freeze and sit up as you catch yourself in the midst of changing out of your clothes. Nobody _knocked_ ; you’re surprised.

“J-Just a minute!” You falter from the brief shock and shimmy on some sweatpants and a tank top before carefully opening the door. It’s Alphys. You’re certain your eyes are bulging from your sockets with overwhelming surprise as Alphys fidgets with her fingers, hides her legs, and clearly tries to become small behind her spectacles. You clear your throat and she nearly flies off the floor she jumps so hard.

“Hey, uh, Alphys. What’s goin’ on?” You try to act casual and make yourself appear small. That seemed to work well with shy children – maybe it applied to horrifyingly shy monsters? She doesn’t even dare to pick her head up to peak at you.

“U-U-h-Uh-Uhm, h-he-hel-hello R-R-Rea. I-I-I, uh-uh, k-know th-that-“ She pauses to clear her throat and pick at her claws idly. “ I h-heard, f-fr-from U-U-Un-Un-d-dyne, th-tha-that-t sh-she was ha-hap-py wh-wh-when you-you bot-both t-t-tal-talked a-at tha-that café……s-s-s-s-so I-I-I w-was h-hoping, ma-ma-maybe th-th-t-that y-you-you c-cou-could, u-uhm, ta-talk to her.” She quickly mutters the last bit and scrunches her shoulders really hard as though she were bracing herself.  

“Talk to her about…?” Your eyes crinkle in confusion as she continues trembling like a frozen tiny dog.

“W-Well, A-Asgore is upset ab-about th-the recent incidents; everyone agrees on-on that. Bu-But Asgores sp-speech to the humans r-recent-tly promised that he’d le-leave the in-in-inves-vestigation to-to the humans o-on t-the police fo-force. Bu-But Undyne is su-suggesting she and a f-few of the Guard Dogs ad-advance in sec-secret. No-Now they are fighting.”

“They’re literally fighting about Justice? How do you even…” You sigh and rub your head.

“I-I’m so-sorry i-if you-you’re too busy yo-you don’t need to-to do anything. I-I’ll just-“ “Is she downstairs?” Alphys jumps and a few beads of sweat come down her chin. It’s enough of an answer as you squeeze past and wander downstairs.

“Wa-Wait, R-Rea- u-uh-uh th-they a-are alr-already eating-“ You ignore Alphys and round the stairs to spot Undyne clearly tense in her chair and not even look down towards Asgores end of the table. You sigh, focus electricity into the print of your fingers and press your pointer and ring beneath your middle digit.

“Ah! Rea, will you actually be joini-“ Toriel doesn’t finish her question as she sets down a meat pie. You drive your fingers into the back of Undynes neck. She goes rigid with a guttural gasp that almost sounds like a cough. Toriel drops the remainder of the dish, gasps, and comes circling around the table.

“Rea?!” Asgore exclaims on the sidelines while you lean down in front of Undyne to meet her wide and wild eye.

“Listen. Let me do my flippin’ job. We don’t need any renegade adventures right now, Undyne. I’d say your opinion matters, but it doesn’t. You go wild and you’ll make the general situation worse. You’ll be repressed, sure, but you’re not getting put back under that mountain for something like _this_.” You reach across and snag a chicken leg. You spot Papyrus, Sans and Frisk coming from the brothers side.

“Are we clear? Grunt once in pain for yes. Grunt twice and I’ll just leave you here.” Doesn’t take long her to give the one grunt. You pressurize a muscle on her wrist as she wrenches her head and grunts while twisting her joints in ache and pain. You give her shoulder a pat.

“Great talk.” You nibble on the chicken leg as Alphys and Toriel come around to check on Undyne.

“The _only_ reason I’m letting you handle this is ‘cause of my friends and the people…” She mutters and rolls her shoulders and knees.

“Sure. I’m off.” You wave while biting down onto the meat and fishing out your phone. You unlock the front door as a heavy step follows your wake.

“Rea, wait!” Toriel approaches as you stand outside and rip a piece of the leg out. It’s nicely seasoned- you expected no less from Toriels cooking.

“My dear you can’t just—Don’t you--!” She seems on the edge of confronting or pleading against you. You silently await her decision. “It’s dangerous! I realize you are a mage and likely know your way around humans, but even Asgore and I don’t want you part of this fight. You shouldn’t harm your friends, even if you mean to protect them.” She lays a paw onto your shoulder and adjusts her apron.

“I try to not make friends for a reason, Tori. Things become soft, lenient. I don’t have the freedom nor choice to take things slow. I’ve been involved since the get-go so you can’t talk me out of this.” You squeeze her hand in return and meet her eyes. “I appreciate all your kindness, but if I stand around just making friends we won’t make any progress making life better for all of you. It’s in my nature. Please understand.” A grieving expression crosses her face as you pry your hand away.

“Have a good dinner and good night.” You mutter and slip into the Void. Taking a few deep breaths, you rub at your face. You can already feel the frustration bubbling over. Being emotional was only going to be a hindrance, so you set it aside. You drift ever so briefly through the Void and find yourself atop the first building you’d jumped through when you’d first arrived. The sunset illuminates the parks flowerbeds with a tangerine and cotton candy glow. Clouds coming overhead indicated a likely short rainstorm in about an hour with the wind speed. You spy in the direction Muffet had insisted you avoid and pull free your already tattered cloak. You’d sew it together again when you returned home probably. You slip beneath the hood, unleash your scythe, and ride with the wind to downtown.

It takes relatively no time at all to find them. You hide against the shadows and eavesdrop on a gathering gang nearby an overhanging bridge. Most wore masks and gloves; at least knew what they were doing. You crouch lower to the ground and peek around the bend you’ve settled against. Their forms are vaguely hidden with large shirts, dark colors, and hats that covers and hides their hair.

“Whaddya mean the police are onto us?!” One flares suddenly.

“I’m telling you- Lexi didn’t hold up to the deal!”

“Useless slut…” You’re certain the gnawing sound is them crunching on their nails.

“What else do you expect of her?! That guard is a _creep_!” One shivers and wanders towards the river edge.

“We expect her to hold up the end of the deal!! Because she couldn’t _handle_ it, our cover might be blown!!”

“Honestly, what are we even doing?” One scoffs, clearly gaining everybodys attention. “This is too high risk. We need to take a step back and just rethink our app-“ The rational mind is snagged by the jacket and slammed heavily into the brick by a clearly massive individual.

“We step down and they’ll walk all over us!”

“Harv’s right!” The passing and enraged one from before points out.

“You keeping this shit up will get everyone caught! We need to jump off the grid for a while!!! The Black Hearts can’t be disbanded over something as bullshit as ‘disturbing private property’!!” The pinned one fights back as ‘Harv’ lifts them higher.

“We’re too deep to back down tonight.” You lean further to try and focus in on features of their faces.

“What about Dave’s group? They’re going to get-“

“ _EDGE, EDGE, EDGE, ED-EDGE, EDGE-_ “ You practically scream as your phone begins making an incessant noise you’d found to set as your new contacts call ringtone. You growl and rip it from your pocket; _Frisk_.

“WHO’S THERE?!?” A combined array of voices screech as you bounce away and into the Void. You sigh and click the phone.

“Hey, Frisk. Has it been five hours?” You sigh and check your time. An extra half hour has gone by. You groan- if the times were more separated, maybe it’d be useful. Then again it can be convenient to not be concerned about missing things since the times were so similar.

“Yeah! Well, five and a minute.” The reply giddily. You hear something sizzle, a screech, and Frisk giggling.

“What’s happening? Do I need to bash a skeleton outside the head?” You jump free of the Void again and wind up on a skyscraper. You sigh and try to examine your surroundings; at least it was downtown still.

“Oh, no no! Papyrus was trying to make cooked chicken, but then the chicken whistled or something which made Papyrus screech and fall back onto the floor. His apron is stuck in through his butt.” Frisk couldn’t finish the final sentence without snickering again.

“WHO ARE YOU DARING TO CONFESS TO ABOUT MY EXPLOITS!?!? INFURIATING PISS ANT; I WILL KILL YOU!!!” You don’t know how long it’ll take to hearing Papyrus scorn his enemies, but you are too busy kneading your forehead in confusion to even properly reply.

“Frisk, please put me on speaker phone.”

“Ok.” Frisk obeys quickly as you hear a beep.

“heheh- h-hey bro-“ “I WON’T _FEED_ YOU IF YOU SAY ONE MORE FUCKING PUN, SANS, I SWEAR TO ASGORE!!!!!”

“Papyrus. If you or your brother cuss once more in front of Frisk I will personally come over there and seer your face on the stove. Take your sharp little baby teeth and clamp them together. It’s called _shutting up._ ” You warn with a hiss. Silence overtakes the room before a brief rustling.

“AND WHO THE HELL IS DARING TO DEFY THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS?!” You’re already falling off the high-rise building and open a Void at the very base for propulsion. You immediately hone in on the signal; Papyrus is making confused yet sick sounds from the likely slight vibration of the tracker. In moments, you’re there. There is a startled noise as you spin about and let your hair flow about with tendril magic. You hang up; Papyrus must hear the return dial tone as his bones go slightly stark. Your fists are gripped tight as you stroll forward. You roundhouse high kick right to besides his skull where he flinches.

“Flinch pinch!” You shout.

“WH-“ You snag Papyrus’ sharp cheekbone and pinch harshly as he seizes up his shoulder blades and hisses. Something drops to the side as you peek to the side. Sans is dropping a mustard bottle as you twinge with disgust. Then, memory flicks back into your mind as you groan.

“didya….just………Void-“ “Yes, yes I use the Void. Can we please not have this debate _now_? I’m in a rush.”

“You were in a rush last time too!” Frisk points out . They gently reach up and pull on your arm. You release Papyrus who rubs his cheekbone and snarls at you.

“WHAT THE STARS WAS THAT FOR?!” He bites at you as the chicken on the stove simmers. It was, as far as you can tell, a normal chicken meat slab. You don’t honestly know where they got it from, but the Underground had spontaneous happenings you supposed.

“I told you to not cuss in front of Frisk. I _also_ told you to get along with them and your brother. Felt I had to make a reminder.” You tap your foot and fold your arms. Your hair finally settles and rolls off your shoulders.  Frisk gives another tug at your pants as you crouch down.

“What’s your name?”

“Classified. Can I take a peak?” You point to their chest. Frisk seems confused. Lifting their shirt, they point to the same spot. You nod and Frisk tilts their head with a pout.

“What’s there?” They ask timidly as you smirk.

“Your SOUL.”

“what’r’ye doin’ now?” Sans flipped the mustard bottle with his magic back onto the table leisurely before snagging it and taking a disgusting swig. It just was _worse_ than ketchup in every horrifying perspective. Frisk gives it a brief though before giving you a good enough timid nod. Your fingers press into their sternum carefully; Frisk giggles from the magic tension. It pops free excitedly and bounces into your hand. Sans spurts mustard and flies back til his chair nearly crashes to the ground.

“wha-!!” Then it falls.

“SANS!! I’M TRYING TO FINISH MY LASAG—OH STARS!!!” Something clatters from Papyrus’ hands onto the floor – sauce spills about. You ignore them both having their little panic attacks and admire the purity in Frisks SOUL. You flip through the STATS quickly; clean record. You admire the vibrant red color emitting a glow across the kitchen tiles. Unlike your Frisks, it’s warm and protective. Frisks back home is certainly warm, but there is its own trepidation behind it as well. You no doubt blame that against the possession of Chara somewhat.

“Aren’t you just a little angel.” You give them a noogie as they giggle and blush.

It’s not there though. Usemia and Eskaria are average sized for average humans. You sigh and let the SOUL float back into Frisks small frame. You hum and think while staring at the floor.

_If different timelines or universes don’t share a common Frisk, that could be both bad and good. Similar to this setting, maybe the Underground isn’t the greatest place for Frisk to wind up in. This disrupts all the prior preparations made to make the exploration process hours faster for each visitation._

Coming back from your thoughts you find Frisk pressing and kneading your cheeks and forehead awkwardly. You grasp their miniature hands and remove their prodding fingers.

“Are you okay?” They pout and locate your furrowed brow. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong Frisk.”

“ye kinda went outta it there.” Sans’ sweaty brows arched in interest as you pushed yourself up. He starts snickering and his grin widens.

“Oh, oh! Is it a new joke?” Frisk jumps from foot to foot in excitement. It dies quickly. “Is it a mean one?” Frisks natural thin eyes squint tight as Sans controls his deep chuckle.

“nah kid. i’s a good one.” A mischievous smirk lets his shark-like teeth glimmer under the kitchen lighting.

“….Okay.” Frisk settles into the seat besides him as you are already are wincing. Best this Frisk learn quickly.

“what’d the kid without arms g’t fer gyftmas?” Sans leans against the table with lazy eyes. Frisk puts genuine thought into it for a moment before shaking their head.

“GLOVES! but ‘e still doesn’t know that.”

You groan and he uptakes interest in your attention as Frisk immediately understands and vanishes into the living room.

“how’dya get a baby in’a small box?” His smirk grows as you scratch your head.

“I don’t want to hear i-“ “ya use a blender.” He smacks his knee and withholds his laughter the best he is able.

“how’dya get the baby outta box?” He has red translucent tears welling in his sockets.

“Is this just a thing I have to listen to-“ “some chisps!” You groan and rub your face aggressively as he snickers and bangs the table out of glee.

“Are you done?” You grumble and massage the insisting headache. He holds up a bony phalange you are tempted to cut short.

“wh—what’s ‘e best part ‘bout dead baby jokes?” He is simply hiding his face at this point with his hand, snickering quietly while facing the table.

“Just say it. This is as annoying as-“ “they never get old!!”

A knife twirls and splinters the fresh floral paneling of the wall as Sans rears back cackling in his chair.

“ENOUGH WITH YOUR DESPICABLE TASTE IN HUMOR!!! THEY BECOME ANCIENT THE INSTANT YOU OPEN THAT GARBAGE TRAP YOU CLAIM IS A MOUTH!!!” Papyrus yells aggressively with a scowl wrinkling his brows. Frisk is giggling from the couch along with Sans as you massage your forehead.

“Alright, I gotta go. Good luck, I guess.” You wave your arm; you mostly intended that towards Papyrus. Frisk seemed to almost rule the house – was settled on the couch with a blanket and pillow, food and snacks at the ready. You didn’t doubt Papyrus was constantly a phenomenal host. You found the majority of your concerns landing on Sans. 

Since Papyrus’ placement in his time mattered technically where you popped out, you witnessed the ‘cracks’ of the Void on your return route. It was unsettling, dim, and heavy; you steered clear. Whilst flowing along you fiddled with your phone and sent a text out to Mirage.

**Rea** **– Appreciate being kept up to details. Send the shit early I just want to get this shit over with. Can you get Tic-Tac to call me? He can’t hear the text noises over the metal and Bay likely hasn’t made him a larger phone for his damn fingers.**

It’s shorts and contextual. You practically skid in your tracks as you recall the remainder of the barriers in ‘Edgetown’. You twirl about and slowly make your way back.

 

* * *

 

 

It takes _way_ too long. Perhaps it’s the exhaustion or the distant rumbling hunger of your stomach, but you can’t find the energy to work any faster. Most of the barriers held well enough to just need fixing ups. Doesn’t dissuade the matter it took hours to check and re-check them all. Even the mental reminder of being half an hour ahead of your standardized time didn’t make things anymore well off.

Slip into the Void, float along, return home. The house is dark as you enter from the back. Your feet, though heavy, faintly tiptoe across the tiles. It’s a few minutes past midnight, but you hear a bustle in Undyne and Alphys’ segment of the housing. They’d never let you over and you were finally reaching some form of term with Alphys; you didn’t bother checking. The stairs creak but your hurried steps don’t seem to rouse suspicion with any of the other housemates. Trip is snuggled up in your open door as his little ears perk attentively upon your arrival. You hastily scoop him up before he has a chance to yap and shut the door with a faint squeak. You sigh and set Trip onto the bed.

“I just need to get some rest.” You mumble to yourself. Stripping off your sweatpants to the incessant and increasing heat you practically slam the windows open to let the faint breeze in. Sweatpants strewn on the floor you shimmy into the bathroom. Your magic supply is still plenty depleted from the amount of magic the Gnawing Eye consumed – most life has returned to the pupil and iris as you examine it under the light. It’d likely regenerate back to normal by morning without any more strain. You splash your face, scrub your teeth, and flick off the light. Trip continues his happy panting circle runs of your mattress as you carefully nudge his tiny puff body towards the pillow where he naturally blends in. He settles in quickly as you plop onto the mattress and rest your feet. You sigh and bring up the sheets – they were cool enough to save you the mosquito bite dilemma in the morning.

“Night Trip…” You yawn, pet him thoughtfully, than settle in.

Of course, it doesn’t come. You lay there for five, ten. Fifteen or so minutes pass as you shuffle and try to relax. The heat was suffocating to a painful extent. Being without the covers, however, was prone to the possible bad intrusion of Sans with his inability to control emotions. Immediately your mind jumps onto the wagon of regrets and questions; necessary for solutions.

A squeak fetches your attention. A murmur. Not familiar in the slightest.

“Go, go.” It’s hushed, but you hear it. Footsteps; the bathroom. Your eye pulses brilliantly as you slip beneath the covers and hide it beneath your palm. You lay your form flat against the mattress to make yourself as indiscernible as possible. The darkness and your natural camouflage with the sheets is advantageous.

“Did anybody see? That ivy shit caught Mikes foot and the bastard yelped loud enough to wake those damn dog unit scum!” Four- Five people tiptoe into your room. You hear the window from the bathroom latch. _That_ fucking _arch on the side-!_ You’d berate Toriel slightly later for giving a perfectly discreet ladder to the third floor.

“If we’re in this far we can get the job done. Everyone clear on the plan?” You feel the multiple presences congregate into a huddle. You’re desperate to see the ugly mugs, but you know preemptively they’ve likely hidden their faces. You also cannot reveal your location as of yet in curiosity for information.

“Slightly? I mean, I just tagged along.” Someone gets smacked.

“Charles!! You’re the fucking pyro! It’s the whole fucking reason we brought you!!” One hisses harshly.

“Sorry Dave.”

A brief memory flashes into your mind. Back under the bridge downtown; this was the other group!! You grit your teeth tight.

“Imma say this one more _fucking_ time and that’s it. Charles’ll drop the oil lamp down the stairs and catch the whole shebang on fire. Nobody can get down if there aren’t any fucking stairs. Lauren and Steve you get any stragglers on the sides – those freak skeletons or that dinosaur. Jeffs got eyes on the fish. This all goes good and well and we can get rid of those _fucking_ royal monster scum and the kid. Nobody will back them then. Missy and Kent are holding the car at the other end. Soon as they see the fumes they’ll pick us up. _That’s_ how long we have to clear house.” A set of guns cock- four at worst. Someone pulls out a lighter.

“And what exactly will _you_ be doing?” A snarky voice points out.

“….I’m going for the King.”

“Always have to seem _so_ important.” One sighs, fiddling with something.

“Shut it, Steve. Get back down there and fucking find those skeletons.” The door to the hallway opens as you ready to pounce.

“Grrrr-!” Trip begins to rumble beside you. You feel the tension and jittery vibes of each of them as guns click and likely aim.

“Wh-What was that?!” One whispers harshly.

“I can’t see a fucking thing—get the lights!!” The other replies.

“We can’t! They’ll know we’re here!!” Trip doesn’t hold back as he barks successfully.

“Where the hell is it coming from?!”

“Fuck it! Just throw the damn lamp and lets get outta here!!”

“Do they know we’re here?!?” You finally find a proper footing as you feel one make for the door and leap from the sheets. The sheet flies and catches one in the face – a fucking Uzi fires and flails wildly as they are blinded. You snag another individuals foot and skid with them onto the floor where they screech and snag their likely broken nose.

“Why did this have to be _tonight_?” You mumble and turn to address the remainder of the party.

“It’s the bodyguard bitch!! Kill her!” One shouts – it was probably Dave. Trip leaps from the pillow and snags his hood. He panics and screams like a girl as two other men open fire onto you. You leap up towards the ceiling, press off, and jolt down to their feet. You sweep their legs out as they both crash to the floor.

“You– fucking—!!” The flicking of a lighter occurs behind as your body swivels and bursts into an immediate sprint. The one with the oil lamp is at the stair access. You wrench your elbow around and against his jugular as he gasps. You snag the oil lamp as a door slams open.

“What’s all this racket?!” Asgore huffs and comes to the railing. Peering up, his anger instantly subsides into horror.

“JUST GIVE ME THREE MINUTES WILL YA?!” You shout. A volley of gunfire comes from behind as your chest is pierced. You wince and cough, but the poor sap before you gets the bullets that come through.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING- YOU SH-SHOT CHARLES!!” A girl screeches as a gun magazine clicks desperately. You huff in a breath, shove your feet off the railing and throw yourself and the oil lamp boy back into the bedroom. You toss the coughing and sputtering man into the reloading individual as you hastily scope the room whilst slamming the door. Nosebleeds up and scurrying out the window, coughing and sputtering has the empty magazine boy pinned. The girl is clearly panicking. Trip gives a yelp and is tossed by the bookshelf – the one, Dave, he was attached to pulls out a pistol.

“STOP THAT!” You scream. Your arm extends out and snag the footboard. Your fingers instinctively lace around the wood and fling the entire bed and mattress at the assailant. He gasps and hits the deck as it crashes into the window. The girl shrieks and pulls out a little thing of a gun – Trip rushes to chomp onto her ankle. She screams so hard she faints from the light nibble. Surprise finds you catching the poor thing from bashing her skull into the hardwood. Cautiously putting her down, you can finally take a brief breather to find the truest culprits. Most of these people were teens or young adults – they were mixed with the wrong crowd obviously. Trip comes padding over to your feet wagging his tail happily. A gun clicks as you scoop Trip up and dive out of the way – Mr. Empty Mag found one.

“You crazy bitch!!!” He screams and empties the magazine out without much attention to aim or precision. It riddles the walls and door as a gasp comes from behind the thin wooden material.

“Rea?! What’s going-“ “Don’t come in! Get downstairs!! Also, get a healer!!” You shout back. Your eye spins as the stairway door opens for the briefest moment. It’s long enough for you to belly slide Trip out of your room. Once it’s shut and locked you dive forward and grab Mr. Empty Mags gun. It’s crushed instantly in your grasp as you proceed with the lightest of punches so as to not knock teeth loose. Once he is out cold in your grasp you count the unconscious or bleeding bodies. Two are missing. You can’t catch the foot that kicks you outside the head. Your ear rings for a moment. A knife flicks out as the moonlight hints it with the sheen. You catch it at your throat with a pained grunt as it pricks your jugular. You only recognize the broken and bloody nose as angry tears spill from his eyes.

“Just die already! Die with these freaks!!” He declares as you kick him directly in the gonads. The response is immediate as he crumples and cuddles his junk.

“You’re the freaks for coming in my _friggin_ ’ window at night!!” You hear the window unlatch and the bathroom door slam shut. The man from beneath the bed against the study wall has managed to crawl loose. For extra measures you let your foot fall on the one mans hand and wait for the screams and crunches to fall still and silent. The door is thrown open as you lunge out the window with practically cat-like reflexes. You shimmy onto the rooftop and spot the supposed leader sprinting into the darkness. You slip down the tiles and land on the sideline of the house, hoping and praying no return fire will be made if you rush out now. The less that knew of your abilities the easier things were for the monsters after all. The darkness swallows the man as you rush the sidewalk. You peer down the road for the getaway driver to no avail. A muddy shoeprint is left in the road from the brief rainfall – it was all you could find now. You sigh and crouch down beside it.

Your mind bounces desperately around for answers and resolutions as a headache works over your skull. You grip your hair with flustered debility as you recall the number of people. Roughly three out of seven got away. That was awful by your standards. Playing human was more difficult than you presumed. Both hands twist and knot your hair as your brain becomes cluttered with objectives and possibili-

“REA!!!” A shrill shriek comes from the front door. Your head peeks up. A set of headlights speeds centrally at your crumpled form. The instantaneous response from your eye indicates immediately that you will be sore in the morning. You’re split second concentration grounds you _literally_.

The collision is completely one sided: your arms are buried into the hood and engine that bursts and fumes in your hands as the remainder of the vehicle crumples and squeaks upwards from the pushing force still continuing. You rear your leg backwards to cease the descent and let the car lurch off your hands and back into the road. Their airbags are deployed; everyone unconscious or dazed from the crash. Fires lick under the hood of the car as you sigh and manage your best to control the becoming flame. The doors are dented beyond repair as you merely rip them free of the metal hinges and slip the bodies out and over your arm.

The two in the front seat aren’t who you’re looking for – the one catching your attention is reeling at you stupidly with a switchblade. You catch the blade within your fingers, fling the sharp end into the sidewalk, and knee him right in the gut. He crumples immediately with a cuss upon his lips. You fling him over the other arm that twitches and stings from the gunshot ricochet. Your foot presses against the car as you forcefully shove the burning vehicle to the center of the street to not cause damage to any housing. The fire department or cops would arrive soon enough from either the smoke or the noise complaint.

“Re-“ The shaking voice catches your attention as your eye finally dies down. Toriel stands horrified in the doorway with her hands covering her snoot. She looks to you, the bodies, and the car. You sigh and heave their unconscious weight.

“Relax. They’re alive.” Her footsteps are like wisps in the grass. Her paws snag your head, pull it close, and your face is captured and pecked upon gingerly. You blush and shy away as she nuzzles your hairline affectionately.

“Wh-What-What-Wha-What a-are-a-are y-yo-you do-doi-doing!?!” You shriek aghast and tears tremble in her eyes. You can’t tell if they are happy, sad, or angry tears from the expression she is making.

“You could have been sincerely injured!! What were you thinking?! You are a mage – you aren’t _supposed_ to take hits!! Yet look at you!” She gestures to your blood riddled shirt before another sob hiccups from her throat.

“The less they know I’m a mage the less memory I have to overwrite!! I’m tired and I didn’t have enough time to think this through, okay?!” You argue back as she carefully takes one body to hold like a baby.

“Who are these people?” She whispers, looking them over. She removes the girls mask. “She is but a child!”

“Child or not, they came here to burn your house down. Innocence in youth doesn’t resolve any decisions they make.” You grumble and waddle inside.

“Rea, you mustn’t—you require healing!” She states. The girl is put carefully onto the couch as footsteps come falling downstairs. Asgore emerges from the stairs still grasping Trip as his beard strains like his eyes upon the crumpled mess you carry in.

“What in the stars happened?!” He asks, putting a hand towards the stairs. You can barely catch Frisks tiny feet and a blanket settled on a higher stair. Asgore must’ve been with Frisk to keep them safe.

“We were attacked. Toriel, I don’t care how – get rid of that arch of flowers tomorrow morning please. I don’t like weirdos climbing in my bathroom window.” You grumble and drop the last body – your arms feel like jam.

“You’ve been shot!”

“So did the other guy. You might want to get Toriel or Paps on that by the way. He is in bad shape.” You sigh and stretch. The front door across the way bursts open with Undynes war cry. You were wondering where she was.

“wha-“ “WHAT THE FUCK!?” Undynes shout echoes out through the night as your own front door still hangs open to view the fire. Footsteps rush the door as a terrified Undyne bursts in.

“Your Majesty, I came as soon as the perimeter was cle- WHAT THE F-“ Undyne spots Frisk and clamps a hand over her own mouth as she takes in the sight.

“WHAT’S GOING ON?” Papyrus gives a timid yawn and rounds the inside corner. Sleepy Papyrus was a surprise and you were leaps and bounds ready to accept any energy he had to counteract the recent exposure to the scowling Papyrus. Sans and Alphys come waddling in behind Undyne who instantly approaches Toriel and Asgore.

“What happened?! Is everyone okay?! Well, I mean, other than Rea?!? Do you need a doctor?! ARE YOU GONNA DIE?!?!” Undyne jumps her attention to you instantly as Asgore nods or shakes his head to her desperate questions. You catch a stunned Sans in the doorway as Alphys makes her way to Toriel.

“I’m too tired to explain this all – I leave this to the royals. Papyrus, can you please come with me and make this guy stop bleeding on my hardwood floor?” You sigh with a vague woozy headache. Papyrus perks up to the mayhem and comes to your side instantly.

“WHAT HAS HAPPENED? ARE YOU ALL RIGHT, REA?” Papyrus peeks over your wounds as you wave him off.

“There is a human injured upstairs. Think you can heal him first?”

“NO DOUBTS ABOUT THAT!! NEVER FEAR WHEN THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS NEAR!! NYEHEHEH!!” Papyrus storms the stairs as Asgore makes room and joins the explanation circle. You follow Papyrus slower then usual while Frisk waits upon the stairs.

“ _You’re hurt!”_ You ruffle their hair immediately and nudge them back towards their room.

“Nothing a good bout of sleep and tea won’t fix. You need rest though. Things should be okay for tonight, but head to your parents room just in case. If they ask why, tell them I said to. Grab Flowey while you’re at it.” Frisk doesn’t get another word in as you work your way upstairs. A painful twinge nearly brings you to a knee as a boney arm envelops around your back to catch you.

“If you look at my legs anymore Papyrus will think you got a thing for Mettaton.” You murmur thoughtlessly to Sans. His face turns a vibrant blue from the corner of your eye.

“it’s, uh, kinda, y’know.” He sweats a little and stares blatantly at the ceiling.

“I’ll put pants on when we get there…” You sigh and worm your way out of his assistance. He doesn’t take the resolve against his assistance though and pulls you back into his grasp.

You both finally return to the mayhem of your room. You feel Sans hesitate and peruse your room in astonishment to the sheer amount of destruction.

“d’you do all this?” He faintly asks as you snag the beds footboard. There were claw marks etched into it from your nails.

“I mean I didn’t leave the bullet holes, so…” You wrench the bed from the window and study case to level back into its proper position. Papyrus is already busied healing the one individual you were referring to as you snag your sweat pants and squirm into them.

“HOW ON EARTH DID THEY GET UP HERE?! SURELY NOT THE FRONT DOOR – ALPHYS HAS A LOVELY SECURITY SYSTEM!” Papyrus states as you watch the holes systematically close on the one mans torso. Relief begins to flood his features.

“Climbed the flower arch in the back through my bathroom. I had my suspicions but I should’ve pushed it sooner.” You grumble and lay the few bodies out. Sans comes to assist and assess the damage dealt. He winces profoundly for the broken nose chap.

“d’you have’ta get his face? seems to be his good side.” You can make out the strained chuckle as you flip Mr. Extra Mag who is now Mr. Crunched Fist besides his pal Mr. Riddled. It just felt like a nickname basis was being established suddenly as the totally reliable yet equally dumb names popped into your mind. Sans knelt down and overlooked his crushed fingers.

“tell me ‘at was the bed.” He proclaims as you cross your arms.

“Fine. It was the bed.”

“Rea…” His voice is warning as you desperately try to not crumple under the newfound pressure created by the bond.

“What, you want me to chase the other sods while this guy gets free reign of the already panicking house?! I’m trying to be inconspicuous here Sans! Can’t just magically chain these guys!” You growl. As he sighs, you see a familiar glint. Your hand thrusts out before Sans’ chest. A knife dives forward between and through your palm. You grunt and push forward to pin the man onto the ground; your throat rests on his jugular.

“OH STARS!” Papyrus gasps and stands to attention, pulling Sans back. “FEAR NOT, BROTHER!! HUMAN, PLEASE, ALLOW US TO TALK THINGS OUT! BEING MURDERY IS NOT SUITABLE FOR YOU!!” Papyrus mentions soothingly as you don’t restrain or remove yourself from the pinned body. The twitching catches his attention as he overlooks to find you choking the man out with a dead stare.

“REA!! REA STOP! NO, HE REQUIRES AIR!” Papyrus’ arm hooks around yours to no avail as you glare into the mans SOUL and fears.

Monsters.

Family.

School distress.

Army experience.

_No job application returns._

_Stressing out._

_Suicidal family members._

**_An extended hand._ **

**_A lack of air._ **

**_A shadowed mask with crinkling mirthful eyes_** -

“babe. stop.” Two measly words startle you to attention to find the man turning purple. You huff heavily and turn to find Papyrus yanking at your arms desperate to free the pinned human. Sans has a hand behind your head in an almost comforting fashion. Papyrus finally yanks you from the human and layers blue bones over his body.

“I- I APPRECIATE YOU KEEPING MY BROTHER SAFE, BUT WOWIE! WE CAN’T INJURE THEM MORE!!” Papyrus pats your head and cautiously holds your stabbed hand. “YOUR ONE FRIEND IS LESS COVERED IN HOLES SO I SHOULD ATTEND YOUR BODY AS WELL!” Still woozy and slightly stunned, you feel Sans hand tense at your head.

“uh, ah, p-paps. I can handle this. you do you and make sure everyone’s all better. just…..be careful.” His eyes shift to the genuinely unconscious folk as Papyrus hesitates for only a moment. He gives a warm appreciative smile to Sans and wanders to the girl nipped by Trip. You try to hide your hand or just shimmy out the knife, but Sans snatches your hand hastily.

“You did that on-“ “you shouldn’a done that.” He states and twists your hand gently. Your shoulders seize up to the aching pain.

“Do you often forget you have one HP?” You reply with an awkward giggle.

“I’ve trained myself to dodge when the time is right. I had it handled.” He declares. The knife is illuminated in blue and slips loose of the hole. His eyes turn painful and you feel tears warble in the back of your vision as you fight them down.

“Stop. This isn’t good. It’ll solidify.” You murmur as a green aura hums off his hands and lets the pain fade.

“hmm?”

“The bond…” You hiss quietly and attempt to pull your arm free. He overturns your hand and kisses the back. Your face blooms with red immediately as you wrench it loose.

“I-I c-can heal this fine! Yo-You need to get away from here.” You shove him before shifting away.

“’m just tryin’ to fix yer hand.” He sighs and wanders past your back to check the bathroom idly. He finds the switchblade and clicks it shut; the window as well.

“Yeah, well, I can fix myself up just fine _alone._ ” You snarl back at him. You peek over to Papyrus’ whereabouts and stand to meet him at the bathroom door. He meets your eyes easily with a tenderness while you grumble under your teeth. You catch his eyes momentarily drift downward. Giving a click of your tongue seems grabs his attention quickly while he tenses.

“I don’t want to have to keep repeating that _we_ can’t have close interactions or even eye contact.” You force yourself to glare away from his white eyelights. “I understand enough that monsters are a lot softer and maybe don’t have the best ability or whatever to fight the urges, but the more _shit_ you pull the worse results in the _longer_ this bond will last.” You sigh exhaustedly while pressing your hands into a few wounds to heal. “I have legit a two days or less to drop this damn bond and you aren’t—“ His boney teeth silence your proper sense and the bathroom door is shut loudly. There is a smacking sound as your mind processes the exact interaction happening. Your face heats intensely as you push at him.

“Sto-“ He barely gives you breathing room as you are rounded about an pressed to the door. His ribs become apparent at your chest as he tilts his skull slightly right. He moans into your mouth and makes a desperate expression that has your resolve crumbling.

_He needs to stop!! He won’t just listen to me for a moment and figure out that if this bond is forced we’ll both be unhappy! He’ll have every regret, blame me, then all shit with crumble- he could die-!_

He pulls away from you immediately as your thoughts are pushed aside. You hear his teeth grit as his hands leave your torso to push against the door. He huffs haggardly while hanging his skull downward. You catch white pinpricks darting up to check your face that’s likely beet red. Boney hands cover his face as he retreats back to lean against the tubs edging. You press your palm against your heart to stop the intense beating and round to the sink. A rapid series of knocks come at the door.

“ARE YOU ALRIGHT IN THERE? DID YOU SEE WHERE SANS DISAPPEARED TO?” Papyrus questions as you tense.

“He, uh, probably went to bed. He is pretty exhausted. You should too Papyrus.” You watch Sans sit on the edging with shaking shoulders. The faint sniffle catches you off guard.

“OH ALRIGHTY! I WILL BRING THESE HUMANS DOWNSTAIRS.”

“Appreciate it Papyrus.” You mention and hear cloth shuffle from the ground. Nothing is even whispered until Papyrus has shut the bedroom door.

“this isn’t easy…” He grumbles on the side as irritation peaks in your SOUL.

“You aren’t _making_ it easy!” You loudly declare. He finally meets you with anger.

“I mean it ain’t easy _not_ being attracted to ya!!”

“Agh, don’t say that!” Your screech is muffled behind your hands.

“whaddya mean?” His arm brushes across his sockets harshly.

“Yo-You can’t just compliment me! What have I been saying?!” You throw your arms up only to settle them crossed in front of you.

“I wasn’t! ‘was stating the obvious!!”

“You are still doing it!!!” You pointedly declare as he jumps to his feet. “I-I-I’ve to-told you: no eye contact, no physical contact, and I am now declaring no subtle flirting or compliments!” Your foot taps against the tiles.

“oh, like you aren’t doing shit to make this harder on me too?!”

“I haven’t done anything! I _want_ this to break! Don’t you?!”

“’course! but ya keep making that face!!”

“What ‘face’?!” You’re within a foot of each other, your veins tensing as his brow furrows.

“the one where you get the cute little quaint smile! and the blush – stop blushing!”

“I’m blushing b-because you are doing stupid shit like kissing me!!”

“I wouldn’t’ be kissin’ you if you weren’t making that _damn_ -“ “You’re too close!!” You screech and shove him back. He pauses to discover the close proximity as you back up towards the door. He makes a clicking sound with his teeth before backing his way to the window on the opposite side.

“Do you understand how _bad_ this is?” You sigh and flick hair behind your ears.

“ye ye…” He grumbles and dabs his skull with a handkerchief.

“Listen…” You fiddle with your hair while healing the remainder of the bullet holes painstakingly. “I have something to attend to in a few days and if this bond is still active I will be up shit creek faster then you can say a pun. And the whole thing was an accident. You feelings and whatever aren’t _valid_ or _your own_. Try to remember that.”

“the fucks goin’ on in a ‘few days’?” He squints judgingly at you. You give a lazy glare back.

“Nothing that involves you. It’s my own issue. Look just get out of my room. I’m exhausted, I hurt all over, and the less I see your dumb face the better for us both.” You grumble and open the door. You can feel him prodding and pleading under his tense gaze as he exits your bathroom.

“fine..” His Void opens as you recall something and snag his hood. His teeth are tight until he meets your eyes and blush.

“And never again call me ‘babe’.” You declare and toss the blushing bones into the Void. Trip gives a yip as he scratches at the bedroom door. You open it and he jumps in giddily like nothing even happened.

“How’d you get out there?...” You mumble to yourself. You give up halfway through and collapse onto your slightly still jostled bed. Sleep takes you quickly as Trip manages to settle on your hip like a little bird before cozying in for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for stopping by for a read!! Leave a kudo or a comment so I can chat with you guys, or Hit Me Up On Tumblr!! 
> 
> Question of the day -- Why do you park in a driveway but drive in a parkway?


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